


Guide Dog

by GammaRays



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (a bit), Angst, Blindness, Depression, Disability, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jean Kirstein & Eren Yeager Friendship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Panic Attacks, Politics, Recovery, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sub!Eren, Torture, Violence, blind!Levi, mentioned underage (not ereri), slave!eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 193,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammaRays/pseuds/GammaRays
Summary: Legalisation of differentiated citizenship - of slavery - seemed to be inevitable in the overpopulated, resource-hungry world; or so everyone has been told since years. Tight laws and controls were meant to give the people an illusion of morality. Trusting the authorities to keep the system lawful, many chose to turn a blind eye to the regular abuse of the vulnerable.Life didn't change for everyone, but it changed for Eren, who after his mother's death, father's disappearance, and orphanage's neglect, is finally forced into slavery and prostitution at the age of 16. After a year of unspeakable torture and being deemed no longer sufficiently profitable, he's put for sale to a private owner. The boy expected a lot, but not to become a help for a disabled ex-professor, Levi Ackerman, and definitely not to be treated like a human again.Two men, each broken in his own way, set out on a slow and painful journey of healing and recovery, making it seem as if their lives are gradually going uphill. But only until a certain point.





	1. The Abused

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ^^ ! This is my first multi-chaptered work that I'm really set on finishing; I've got most of the general planning out done, so it's just the writing part now! ^^ I was planning on publishing the first chapter only when I'm fully finished with the fic; then changed my mind and thought I could see whether there'd be an interest in it at all. So: as in the tags, this is a Levi/Eren fic with a slow build up, lots of violence, lots of trauma and sadness and feels and triggering stuff, so proceed with caution. But I plan on making it end happily :'3 Anyway, I hope you'll like the first chapter at least a bit ^^ I'll be adding characters and tags as more chapters are added.

I run. I run till my lungs give out and my ligaments tear. Too slow. I run. I always run, but they always catch me. I hope I can outsmart them, but there are too many of them. The city closes in on me, the streets get tangled, and even the law is against me, although I’m innocent. My panic slows me down. The sluggish, disgusting fear of being chased crawls up my neck, worms itself through my ribs, wrenching helpless and desperate sobs out of my lungs, weakening them further. The shouting gets louder, it’s all around me. I don’t know any more if I’m running away from them or towards them. I can’t feel my legs. But I keep running.

And the same always follows; I trip over my own feet, or maybe over the uneven path with its ragged bumps, hard to see in the dark alley at this time of the evening. Whatever it is, I fall. I always fall, and I always fail. Once my exhausted, heaving body hits the ground, my fate is sealed.

They catch up to me in no time, pointing guns at me, as if I’m a criminal. I try to heave myself up, and the clicking of their guns echoes with each of my movements. They approach me slowly, like a wild animal, or as if I’m about to turn into a monster right in front of them and devour them all. I wish I could. But once one on them has me back on the ground with my hands behind my back, the shouts and kicks and pain erupt. I try to cover my face, but cuffs dig into my wrists. Warped, demonic faces of the guards swarm in front of my eyes. I can hear onlookers talk, but I don’t understand a word. I feel wet warmth at my nose.

I taste and smell the blood still, even though I’m somewhere else. Still cuffed, sitting in front of a man whose face I do not recognise. He’s calm. He’s speaking to me, but I always register only individual words. But I always make sense of it. Poor district. Poor orphanage. Sold. Slavery. Slavery. Sold. I’m sold. I’m a slave. I don’t deserve this. Neither does Mikasa. Where is she? Why won’t they tell me? Just tell me where my sister is! I’m a slave. I’m sold. But what will happen to Mikasa? Where is my sister!? Something is choking me, I’ve been captured and sold, there’s blood… I’m drowning in it. Mikasa. I need to see her. I can’t stay. Can’t be here. Let me out. I can’t breathe. The collar-

 

 

Cold sweat and a rush of cold air in my lungs brings me back to reality. I’m gasping, trying to clear my mind with the chill that is always present in our cell. My mouth is dry, but it still feels like I could taste the blood, the mud, and the dirt; the same as on that day, which I’ve been reliving during so many nights. I pull senselessly at my collar, trying to ease my breathing, knowing full well it won’t do me any good.

I look over to the other bed; Jean is still fast asleep. Since he always gets up before me, I allow myself to sink back against the pillows again and close my eyes for another while; sleeping is not an option. The memories brought back by the nightmare won’t let me rest.

Trying to get my body to relax is a challenge, but I finally get there, easing my breathing into a somewhat normal pace. This is definitely not a good opportunity for lucid dreaming – something which most of us here try to practise as an aid in staying sane – but it was worth a shot, even if just to relax. Soon I end up in a hazy and timeless state of half-asleep, only to be violently pulled back into reality by Jean’s call of my name.

‘Yo, Eren. Get moving. Geez, one of these days I’ll oversleep and we’ll both get fucked up’, he whines with no real anger in his voice as he finishes tying his shoelaces. Didn’t even hear him get up and dressed. Guess I managed to drift into sleep after all, which left me feeling groggy and even more exhausted than after the nightmare. Unsurprisingly.

I drag myself out of bed, from under the relatively warm covers, and the cold air hitting my body immediately irritates me further. ‘Don’t wait for me’, I mumble at Jean as I walk into the freezing, tiled bathroom, making sure to lock the door. Jean and I know each other’s bodies and minds so well, and we’ve helped through and seen each other in the worst and most humiliating situations; yet this routine is embarrassing to the stage where my ears burn red even as I kneel alone on that bathroom floor.

Yet, having done it so many times, the process is pretty much automatic, and I can distance myself from it quite well on a good day. Stripping from my clothes, taking out the plastic bag from the cabinet, feeling the salty water sloshing around in it, attaching the tubing, and kneeling on all fours. Same routine. Day by day. Not wanting to waste any more time and to be late and punished, I skip the phase of gently prepping myself, reach behind my back and force the nozzle of the tube into my body without lubrication. At this stage, that level of pain causes me to merely flinch. Squeezing the bag, I soon begin to feel the cool liquid flowing into my insides, which I have found to be a strangely soothing feeling. I let my head rest on the closed, old scratched toilet seat while still forcing the water into myself. Even in a rush, a one litre enema will take a few solid minutes.

Letting my mind wander, I cannot help but worry about how this night’s shift will turn out. Will they rent me out to a single pervert or a whole group, like a couple of days ago, and on many more occasions? And why does it even happen in the first place? What animal, what bastard, decided that some people can legally be slaves? The regulation that a slave can be treated in any way, legally, without being killed, is like a final slap to the face. It’s not my fault my mother is dead. It’s not my fault my father left us behind, like the bastard he is. Or that we come from a poor district, and so does the orphanage. They were supposed to take care of us, not sell us as whores. Well, at least that’s what it is in my case. But my gut tells me that Mikasa doesn’t have it any easier. They have kept me fairly in check, because they know what happened to her. This knowledge is their advantage over me. Every month they let me hear her voice on the phone for just a few seconds, in exchange for my cooperation. These calls are what I live for.

I subconsciously squeeze the bag harder in my anger, and the final drops fill by body. Taking out the nozzle out of myself carefully, I squeeze my muscles and continue on with other tasks, such as brushing my teeth and grabbing a quick shower. Once I’m done, I lift up the toilet lid and sit down, letting out the water with red cheeks and ears as if I’m not completely alone in the bathroom. Not wasting much time, I get dressed and walk out of the bathroom to our room, not surprised that it’s empty. Well then. Time for ‘work’, I suppose.

 

 

‘Ah, here’s my favourite cunt-boy; fashionably late as always, obviously keen to get a lashing later on, we’ll cater to that then’, Keith’s vile words greet me as I walk up to the front desk of the main room, already filling up with filthy pigs looking for someone unfortunate enough to be forced to suck them off and distract them for a while from their pathetic existence. ‘Gonna recommend you to a pair or a group if I see one. If you make enough tonight, I might consider cancelling the lashing’, Keith doesn’t even look at me as he attaches a yellow tag with a barcode to my collar. ‘Now go and make yourself presentable, little whore’.

Walking away from him without any intention of ‘making myself presentable’, I glance around with distaste, sitting down on the last empty red couch. A lot of usuals, some new faces, swarming the place, slow, sticky and disgusting like slugs, pressing their bodies to those of my ‘co-workers’. Those poor, tortured boys, some much younger than me with tears in their eyes, avoiding anyone’s gaze… Sometimes I hear them crying for their mothers during the day when we’re allowed to sleep. There are also some older boys, and men, with vacant eyes showing no emotion. Sometimes they scare me. They barely talk, barely show any signs that they are anything more than toys that the customers want them to be. It scares me, but I understand. For what we go through, it’s easier not to feel.

I could kill them all. Every single one of these animals that has even been here and got off on our suffering. Cut off their cocks and feed it to them, shove it down their throat and gag them, leaving them to either choke or slowly bleed out.

Being here sharpened my instincts as well as senses, and I can quickly pick up the feeling of being stared at. With the corner of my eye, I see that I’m right; a group of three men is standing at the front desk, looking in my direction, and talking with Keith; I can’t hear it, but it’s obvious enough.

‘Boss’ must have advertised me well, as the four of them soon make their way towards me. I do not budge from my seat as I eye the three strangers; two fairly large and muscular guys and a slimmer one with narrow, vicious looking eyes and a crooked smirk, making him look like an infinite trouble-maker. Apart from being a deranged sadistic pervert, of course. As if that wasn’t enough.

‘Well, here is, our little doll. Say ‘hello’, Eren.’ They finally reach me, and Keith’s voice is laced with fake cheerfulness; I know very well that a serious order is masked behind this upbeat tone. The bruises on my back from the last time I felt like disobeying it are still fading.

Slowly getting up, I give a shallow bow and a quick ‘hello’, without sparing a glance at any of them, going with a disinterested stare somewhere off into the distance instead.

‘Well, well. He’s a sweet-looking doll indeed. He’s got a, huh-’, one of the larger one says as he slaps my behind ‘-nice, perky ass, good for fucking, eh. So how much do you charge for him, chief?’

‘For the three of you, an even 120,000 yen, plus 45,000 yen of deposit, in case you damage him. You get that back after you hand him back in one piece. Standard conditions here.’

‘Ay, fuck, isn’t that a bit much?’

‘Not going down with price, no chance. He’s one of our top quality toys; I even use him myself now and again. Plus, the price includes everything; oral, anal, double, triple, coming in his mouth, his ass, you name it.’

With some effort, I manage to tune out any further bargaining, willing myself to empty my mind, trying to not think of how tough and painful this night is going to be. A moment later, we all walk back to the front desk, Keith leading me by tugging on the tag on my collar. Without needing to be told, I kneel at the desk, letting the black haired man scan the barcode on my tag. Money is handed over. Now it’s over, it’s final. Keith points to the rooms behind the curtain in the main room, exchanging some more words with the three men. And just like that, I become a toy for the night again.

I’m an object.

 

 

‘Fucking hell, it’s not even hot anymore when he’s just fuckin’ screaming bloody murder like that! Pass me something to shove into his mouth, the cunt needs to shut the fuck up or my ear drums are gonna fuckin’ burst!’

‘Yo, put this in him.’

I wail and wail, not being able to stop even with the makeshift gag, whatever it was made from. I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut, not wanting to see their faces. Having to feel them, their bodies rubbing both above and beneath me as they penetrate my weak body simultaneously is horrid enough without having to look at them. I’m gradually losing feeling in the lower half of my body, except for my behind, of course, which I’m sure by now has started to bleed.

‘What the… Fuck, how do they even manage to keep him that tight. Thought you’d be used to having at least two cocks inside you, eh? What’s your secret, doll?’ For a moment I can’t breathe, and it takes me a moment to realise the man above me has put me in a headlock. I manage to spit out the gag, which I figured by now must have been a piece of underwear, and surprisingly, it’s not forced into my mouth again. Instead, I’m slapped hard across my face. It resonates loudly, but compared to all the other torment my body is going through, it feels like nothing more but a pat to the cheek.

The headlock is loosened and I gasp in air as my lungs burn. It doesn’t take me long to start shouting and sobbing again.

‘Just gotta break him in. Huh, wonder if he’s ever had three dicks up his ass? Well, had you, boy? Hm, what’s that? Don’t remember, eh? How ‘bout I put it in and we’ll see if you remember? Make some room for me, guys.’

My mind must be playing tricks on me, as I swear to myself that I just heard the third man talk about adding to my torture and fucking me along with his other two friends. At the same time. If my body wasn’t in so much pain, I would have laughed. It wouldn’t be even humanly possible to-

Wrong.

Oh, how wrong.

I… I never would have suspected that pain of such intensity was possible. I thought I had seen and felt it all. How wrong, how very wrong. ‘Sina… Sina! SINA!! SINA!!’ As I break, both figuratively and physically, I scream the last word that could offer me the last bit of hope; my safe word. Keith allowed me to have one in the beginning of my time here. I’ve used it only once, and only with him. The chance of anyone hearing me now, and especially, anyone caring or helping me, is pretty much non-existent. But it is my only one. ‘Sina… Sina…’

I finally lose all feeling. My body is numb. Floating. There is noise around me, loud voices. The bed creaking. More noises. Some of it is my crying, perhaps. I think someone slaps me again. But I do not care now. I'm slipping under. Not only do I welcome the darkness, I embrace it, chase after it. The chance to fall unconscious is too tempting to pass up. Let me sleep. Sleep…

‘Eren!’

The dark slips out of my desperate grip as someone shouts my name. Please no… Please, fuck me, tear me apart, I don’t care, just don’t make me be conscious again… ‘No, no, it hurts. _Please_. Sina. Sina, si-’

‘Eren, hey hey hey, it’s alright now man, it’s alright, you’re okay, it’s alright.’

Who was this? Where was I? No, I am not alright, everything hurts, I want them to stop hurting me. Neither my body nor my mind can take it.

‘Eren, hey, it’s me, Jean! Stop struggling, you’re hurt, Eren, stop.’

Who? Jean? Is it… But he wouldn’t… ‘Jean. Jean, no, don’t hurt me.’ Is it really him? I-I can’t think straight.

‘Of course I won’t. Breathe, you need to calm down. Come on, they’re gone, come on, breathe in, okay, good, good. Now out, slowly, okay? Good. Come on one more time, slowly, follow my words, alright? Breathe in, now out, good. Good. You’ll be okay. I’ll patch up your sorry ass, don’t you worry, man.’

I try to follow the calm voice which sounded more and more familiar. Right, this is Jean. My friend. I saw him earlier today. I don’t know why he’s here, but- God, I don’t even know where ‘here’ is anymore. What happened, am I still in that room?

As I manage to calm my breathing, I slowly open my eyes and see that, yes, I’m still in this damn room, but for some reason I find myself on the floor, with Jean holding me in a somewhat sitting position. The pain is still paralysing. Curling into myself despite the pain caused by each minute movement, I grab onto my friend’s arm. ‘What… happened?’

‘These dickheads went too fucking far. You were shouting your safe word so loud that I heard you, fuck, I thought you were getting murdered. Ran to get Keith; he threw these fucks out. You were unconscious when we got here, and, God… you don’t really look very different from someone who just about managed to escape murder, you know.’ I let the words slowly sink in. He speaks them quietly enough, for which I’m grateful. I’m slowly regaining my senses and awareness of the situation. I can’t stop the fresh tears and sobs that come out of me. ‘Come on. You’ll be okay. Let’s try to get you up, we’ll go to our room, give you a wash, and see what can be done ‘bout the tearing, alright?’ Jean wraps my left arm around his shoulders and grabs my wrist, while the other is under my arm pit, holding me firmly. ‘On three, okay? Now. One, two, three!’

I groan again as Jean helps me stand. The fire between my legs burns with a living flame again, and I feel hot thick wetness run down my legs. I look down. My inner thighs are covered with both fresh and dried, smeared blood. ‘Don’t look. Come on. Let’s walk you slowly.’

Jean is unusually patient with me as he slowly leads me out of the room. I force my legs to make small steps without giving out or wobbling too much. I notice that my crying has attracted quite a few curious onlookers; slaves or customers; I’m not sure. I don’t look at them as we pass them by the door; I’m too ashamed. And scared. As if any one of them will attack me and cause me more pain.

‘Well, did you scrape him off the fucking floor then?’ A pathetic fearful sob rips out of me as I hear Keith’s approaching voice. He’s standing in front of us way too soon. ‘Wow, what a fucking mess he is.’ I cower away from his voice and grip tighter onto Jean’s shoulder.

‘Keith, leave him be, I’ll just go and give him a wash, look, he can barely stand.’

‘Hm, doesn’t seem he’ll be able to take on any more clients tonight.’ I can’t stop myself from starting to cry again as this cruel bastard steps closer, reaches behind my back, putting two fingers in me and leaning over to get a closer look. Something else runs down my leg; something warm, but less viscous than blood. After a moment I realise my bladder has given out from fear of further pain. ‘He’s torn as fuck. Huh, seems like nothing but blowjobs from him for the next few days. Right, you go and fix hi- Oh m- Fuck, he pissed himself! Get him the fuck out of here, that filthy rat!’

I don’t care what he calls me. I’m just glad we’re walking again, even though it’s unbearably painful. But at the very least, it means getting further away from Keith.

 

From then on, my consciousness was going on and off, like a weak lightbulb. One moment I find myself being led by Jean into our room, and then the next time I open my eyes, I’m on all fours in the bathtub with my ‘roommate’ washing me with warm water from the showerhead. Somewhere in the back of my mind there is a voice which tells me that this position is awfully embarrassing, that I’m naked, exposed, and vulnerable, but I don’t listen to it. I’m too weak. And this is Jean. Sure, we always fight and bicker like an old couple, but we’d never hurt each other besides a few punches or smacks over the head that would leave no lasting damage. And it’s not the first time when we help each other in such a way. I feel a jolt of pain when he lets the water run over my abused behind, and I lose consciousness again.

The next time I’m aware of my surroundings, I feel just a bit more ‘solid’ in them; like my hazy mind is clearing and like I might last a bit longer until I black out again. I slowly realise I’m lying on my front on my bed, and there is something cold at my anus. I tense up immediately. ‘Jean, wh-’

‘I got some... Some glycerine tin… trinitir… some GTN ointment. Found it in the cupboard with enema bags. Says here it helps with anal tearing. Uhh, side effects; headaches, feeling dizzy or lightheaded. Use twice a day.’ He reads the label as he gets up. ‘Probably shouldn’t sleep on your back today, y’know.’

‘Well, this is awful. But Jean, uh, you, um, really saved my ass there. Like, literally.’ I huff at my unintentional joke. ‘So, um, th-’

‘Yeah, I know. Don’t sweat it, man.’ We didn’t need to put it into words; neither of us liked to talk about feelings or anything, but he knows I am grateful, and I know that he knows. All good. ‘You’d do the same for me.’

‘Hmm, I dunno, maybe I’d leave you so I wouldn’t have to listen to your neighing through your sleep.’ I murmur.

‘Wow, you must be feeling much better, since the true, dicky you is coming back. Now shut up, wanna sleep, I’m wrecked.’ He sighs as he falls on his own bed.

‘Tell _me_ about it.’

I’m not even sure he hears this; sometimes I wonder whether he falls asleep before his head even hits the pillow. My jealousy for his ability to fall asleep so fast knows no limits. I, on the other hand, can’t fall asleep without seemingly infinite tossing and turning and my current condition is gonna make this all the more difficult.

As I finally find a comfortable way to hold my pillow and lay my head on it, my eyes fall on Jean’s peaceful figure again. He’s been here much longer than I have, and yet he’s still so strong and kicking.

No matter how much I try to focus on sleeping, now that I remembered it, I cannot force the memory of our first meeting from my mind.

 

_I could barely move a muscle. My hands were chained up to a hook in the ceiling, my feet to those on the floor. It sickened me that there were such 'stations' around here, for the purpose of holding people open, exposed, and defenceless. Although disgusted, I wasn't surprised at this stage anymore._

_I looked around, fuming. I was, no doubt, in the main room, yet not directly in everyone's view. It wasn't much of a consolation, though nothing could be in this current situation of being restrained, dirty, and bruised._

_And naked. I haven’t been given the privilege of clothing, and had no chance to even attempt to cover myself. There were only two clients in the room currently, as far as I could see, being entertained by some of the youngest boys they had here; I was pretty sure they were not even of age. One of the men looked ready to throw his new toy on the floor right there, in the middle of the room, crush him under his massive weight and fuck the poor child senseless. The urge to throw up would not go away. The smell of cigarette smoke attempted to be covered up by a few cheap ginger spice candles thickened the air, making bile rise higher up my throat._

_I was not stupid. I knew what Keith was doing. I was not put there for entertainment of the guests; they seemed to take no interest in me, too busy what was on their lap or at their feet; I felt further uneasiness in my stomach, thinking how common the sight of a tied up, beaten, and naked man must be for these people. But I knew very well that this was another of Keith's cruel attempts to break me. He quickly realised that he needed to crush my pride if he wanted to control me, yet he knew it would not be an easy feat, he knew I wouldn’t give in so easily. I was aware of this; and that's where my advantage was. Keith didn't take me by surprise. I expected that something of this sort was coming. With this knowledge, I would be resistant to such brain-washing. Physical pain wasn't much of an issue either; we both knew very well by now that I had a high tolerance. I huffed in something short of amusement at the thought; really, this was such a cheap and unimaginative try on that bastard’s part. He really was thick if he thought this was going to make me break._

_  
_

_Unsurprisingly, the first thing that became a source of noticeable discomfort, was the dull ache in my muscles that sharpened as time dragged on. Any relief from the minute movements I could make was short-lived. But that was only physical pain. Nothing new. I would endure._

_Next thing that became a problem was thirst; not eating for days was nothing new to me either, but naturally, dehydration was much more difficult to deal with. I wasn't going to beg for something to drink, though. I wouldn't fall that low. Keith would not break me so easily. And even if I did beg, I assumed I'd only end up having vinegar or salty water poured down my throat._

_It must have been around noon; there was no one in the room. All the 'usuals' were probably busy with work, with pretending to be normal members of society and not abusive paedophiles. There was no clock, so I had no means of finding out how much time had passed before someone acknowledged my existence for the first time since I was tied to these hooks._

_It was no one else that Keith himself, of course._

_'Well, how are we doing?', his high-pitched voiced made my skin scrawl with pure revulsion and hatred again. I would not dignify that with a response; only kept glaring at the taller man. I could not forgive myself for the surprised jolt I made when the monster in front of me cupped my flaccid penis with his hand. 'Huh, I think this little guy is trying to tell me you're not having the time of your life. Or maybe he's just bored, maybe I should find some entertainment for him... Tell me, you hungry, Eren?'_

_I could not stop my mouth from watering when he took out an apple from his pocket and held it up. 'Give it up, you thick fuck. Shove it up your ass, for all I care.'_

_'Glad you're expressing so much interest in large anal insertions, but sadly, I don't have time to play with you now, I've got things to take care of. But well, we should have some guests starting to arrive in a couple of hours. Watch our boys serve them, Eren. Watch and learn', he patted my messy hair patronisingly. 'Talk to you later.'_

_I was once again all alone in the room, with only burning fury to keep me company._

_Some undefined amount of time later, the room filled with some of his 'co-workers'. I envied them for being able to wear clothes, even if awfully revealing and indecent. With that came a strange feeling, one that I was not used to experience very often. It took me a while to realise it was shame._

_I wasn't one to be embarrassed often. I didn't care what people thought of me, even though I came from a poor family, a poor district, and was an orphan. Now though, being naked and at the mercy of the perverted men that slowly started to gather, I curled my toes and bit the inside of my cheek._

_But I would not break._

_I quickly became restless, eyes darting in the direction of any sound or movement I could catch near the edge of my vision, even though no one was showing interest in me. I only made eye contact with a few of the other boys, was surprised when I didn’t see amusement at my state in their eyes. I decided it was very likely they were having flashbacks to the times when they were going through the very same thing._

_After some more nervous glancing around, I caught the sight of Keith chatting happily with one of the clients near a large crimson red sofa. Their expressions looked bizarrely normal, given the circumstances. In another setting, they could just be friends who met unexpectedly and were discussing the weather._

_I did not look away when my eyes met those of my abuser, but I did feel my stomach sink just a bit when he started to walk towards me._

_‘So, enjoying the show in front of you? Sorry that you can’t participate just yet’. I could not visualise an image more evil than that man’s smile. ‘Hm, not really up for a chat, I see? I’m feeling a bit charitable right now though, so you might as well take the chance while you have it. You need to piss, or want something to drink or eat?’_

_I felt cold sweat on his back. I managed to not give much thought to the need of urinating; too determined to not give man the satisfaction from my embarrassment for asking about such a thing. Being reminded though, all my attention was now on my painfully full bladder. I considered his options; I could either push aside my pride for a moment and ask him to let me relieve myself in, hopefully, humane conditions, or I could wait until I could not hold it in any longer and make a mess of myself in front of all the people here, more than likely earning an extra beating for that. I did not seem to have a choice._

_‘I need to piss.’ I murmured, avoiding the other man’s eyes this time._

_‘Sorry, what was that dear?’_

_There was no way that I was going to beg. ‘Just let me down for two goddamn fucking minutes so I can take a piss.’_

_Of all the things, I did not really expect Keith to throw his head back in honest, cheerful laughter, earning a few quick glances in their direction. Confused, I tried to make sense of his reaction, but to no avail._

_‘Oh you’re a funny boy, Eren’, he started to speak as he walked behind me and started searching for something in one of the wardrobes standing by the wall. ‘See, I said I’m feeling charitable, but there are some limits to my good mood. Here.’_

_Before I could even think of a response, I felt Keith’s hand on his penis again; alarmed, I looked down and, to my horror, saw the man holding my shaft over a slightly deformed and rusty metal bucket. I froze._

_‘Well? I ain’t got the whole night.’_

_My mind finally caught up._

_‘Are you fucking kidding me, you sick fuck? Do you get off on watching others piss? Let me down already.’ My low, cold tone expressed my fury more than any shouting would._

_‘So you’re not gonna accept my small act of kindness?’_

_‘Fuck you and you bucket.’ Glaring at the man, I could swear that he saw his grey eyes turn almost coal black momentarily in anger. His overall expression did not change at all though._

_‘Very well.’_

_He let go of me, threw the bucket somewhere behind me, and looked for something else in the wardrobe, from what I could hear. I wondered what whip he would choose this time. What I did not expect, was for him to face him again, holding some small and dark in his hands. At first I couldn’t make it out, but once realisation dawned on me, my blood went cold._

_The object was a mixture of a chastity device and a sounding probe; a clever combination for ensuring the probe, being attached to the device, does not fall out, as well as for preventing erection. As if anyone could get one in such a situation._

_Without any finesse or preparation, the few inch-long and relatively thick tube was forced into my urethra. My mind went blank in pain. By the time I regained my senses, Keith was securing the last strap of the device on me, leaving me breathing heavily, to the point of almost whining. I could not believe this; this was an entire new level of cruelty and degradation. He could not just leave me like this._

_‘Enjoy your night, boy.’_

_I could have sworn that the night was at least a week long. A week spent on cursing under breath like a sailor, grinding mt teeth, sweating, panting in frustration and finally, sobbing from pain in my abdomen. A hellish ride on the edge of insanity._

_I was barely aware of the clients leaving and the silence falling; clear signs of the arrival of the morning. My mind was still caught up in the painful blur. Yet it all cleared like the sky after a storm once I heard the now familiar, upbeat footsteps approaching. I didn’t care at this stage. I knew I was being pathetic, but I didn’t care; the pain was unbearable. I opened his mouth to beg for mercy, but failed. I didn’t seem capable of voicing my plea._

_Keith stopped in front of me, composed, washed, and well rested, while I’m sure I looked less and less like a civilised human. He held my over-sensitive penis in his hand again. ‘Had enough?’ All I could do was nod at the man’s raised eyebrow. ‘Fine.’ He reached out for the bucket he discarded last night, and started to undo the straps on the chastity device with his other hand. ‘Piss on my hand and I’ll pierce a second hole in your dick’. I assumed the threat was an exaggeration, yet I did not want to test this theory._

_With inhuman strength I somehow managed to hold the urine in for another half a second until the device and probe were fully removed. Still don’t know how I did that. I grimaced and whined in pain as I was finally able to relieve myself; the pain now just as great as throughout the night, clouding my mind to the point of not caring about the shame. Once I was done, my head dropped in exhaustion, all fight having left me for that moment. I was just so hurt and tired. Briefly, I wondered whether I was too far gone to even notice Keith leaving the room. With effort, I lifted my head up, only to see the man lifting the bucket up above my head and slowly and calmly tilting it to pour the contents on top of me._

_My own warm urine drenched my hair, ran down my cheeks, and into my eyes, forming small rivulets that slowly flowed down my upper body._

_I was dumbfounded._

_The rattle of the empty bucket being thrown on the ground brought me back to reality. I hoped with all my might that this was the end of the torment; Keith would now surely untie me and conclude that I must have learned my lesson._

_But there was no point in hoping. Without another word, he turned away and walked out of the room, leaving me alone once again._

_A couple of solitary hours – I assumed – had passed, and the urine on me dried completely, leaving me with stench and shame. The shame was a fuel for my rage; I made all attempts to keep the fire burning. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to have the strength to spit in Keith’s face without thinking about the consequences. I wanted to endure. The last thing I wanted was to start dwelling on the fact that Keith could have me tied up for weeks, if that’s how long it would take to break my spirit, and there was nothing that I could do about it in this powerless state. Would it be easier to give in? Or make Keith think he won? Would he fall for it, if I tried to fool him? Is being stubborn really worth it? It definitely won’t get me out of these chains… But no. I promised himself he would not give in. I would endure. I would not break. The remnants of pride were the only things I had left._

_Being used to the deafening silence of the room during the day, the approaching light footsteps echoed and rang in my ears. My heart beat faster with a mixture of alarm as well as some hope. Maybe he would have mercy on me; it’s been so long since I had lost feeling in my arms._

_I kept his head hung low until the steps approached me and stopped. Without looking up, I knew it wasn’t Keith. Those weren’t his footsteps. It was someone else who came to witness me in his miserable state._

_Reluctantly, I lifted my head up, and came face to face with someone whom I didn’t see around before, but who definitely was one of the ‘employees’. I took a second or two to glance him over; dark blonde hair with an undercut, wearing a loose black t-shirt and grey jeans. I glanced very briefly at his long face, which kind of made me think of a horse. I didn’t look at his face though; could not look him in the eye, for which I hated myself. The embarrassment of being filthy, smelly, naked, and restrained was unbearable. It was becoming more and more difficult to convert it into rage._

_Still, I wanted to make an attempt to make him go away. The chances that he came here with good intentions was practically nil. ‘D-don’t come n–’ A hoarse mumble was all I managed before I went into a coughing fit. It shook my entire body painfully. I thought I could taste blood in my mouth._

_‘Don’t talk, you idiot, you’re dehydrated. I’ll bring you some water, wait.’ With those words, he left._

_Water? This sounded too good to be true. I would endure another bucket of urine on top of me for just a sip of water. Could I trust him though? Would he really bring it to me? Would he try to poison me? I grimaced at my own paranoia; he had no reason to poison me. But he had no reason to help me either._

_‘Here, drink.’_

_I didn’t even notice him coming back, but suddenly there was a glass of fresh-smelling, clear water at my lips. Thirst took over and I gulped it all down gratefully, not giving a damn whether it was poisoned or not anymore. I drank it all in one go._

_It was pure bliss. I felt far from good, but the water still forced a good bit of life and strength into me._

_‘Why?’ I managed to breathe out._

_The guy rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t thank me, it’s alright.’ It felt like he tried to lighten the mood in a strange way, but seeing he got no response from me, he continued. ‘I’m Jean. I’m one of the, well, slaves here. We may be whores but we have a rule here; we help each other out, Eren.’_

_‘How do you know m-’_

_‘You’re the new guy, aren’t you?’ I nodded. ‘We’ve been told about you. That someone new is going to be… joining our team’. I thought the man was far too casual and calm about the whole thing, he must be a good actor. Then again, he was not the one tied up and covered in urine. ‘Hey, I know you feel like shit. We’ve all been where you are, man. Although I do admit; it seems to me like you’ve struck a particularly sensitive nerve with Keith. Either you’re really annoying, or you’re some proud suicidal bastard. And man, I know it’s the last thing you want to hear right now, but there is no point in resistance. I-‘_

_I immediately got irritated. ‘Did Keith send you to brainwash me?’_

_Jean frowned, somewhat hurt, it seemed. ‘He doesn’t know I’m talking to you. I’m just giving you friendly advice, you prick. He’s going to keep you here until the tissue in your hands dies from lack of circulation, if he’ll want to. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this and crush your hope, shirtless wonder, but we've got a kid here who tried to escape twice by now and, well, he’s still here. Minus his teeth and his penis.’ His face fell for a moment, and so did my jaw. ‘So don’t be too stubborn. For your own good.’ With that, he turned to walk out of the room._

_‘Jean-’ I coughed out. I realised my rudeness and paranoia few seconds too late; I wanted to thank and apologize, but the guy mustn’t have heard me call his name. He left._

_I was all alone again. There was a strange, unfamiliar pain, somewhere in my gut, that I could not pin down. All I knew was that I felt more miserable mentally than before Jean showed up. Or more specifically, before he left. He was the first person who has shown me some kindness since what felt like forever, even before I’ve been taken here. Except Mikasa, of course. I wanted him to come back._

_It was presumably another few hours before clients started showing up again, and I felt I was getting weaker by the minute. I did not try to stand back up, letting all of my weight rest on my raised hands. Even breathing was difficult at this stage, and it came in gasps and pants, with an occasional involuntary whine of pain, irritation, exhaustion, or maybe all three._

_I knew I was breaking. And I could not stop it._

_The familiar, despised face of our tormentor finally made an appearance in the room. This time, he didn’t engage in any chit-chat with the clients. He walked straight up to me, with an odd smirk on his face. On top of his usual beige shirt he was wearing a hoodie; both of its pockets filled. I tensed._

_After stopping in front of me and just standing there for a while, looking all confident, Keith finally spoke in that cheery tone I despised so much. ‘Well, how are things today then?’ I remained silent and just stared at him with all the hatred I could muster up. ‘Aw, come on, looks like today was a bit more eventful, eh? At least you didn’t spend it all alone, did you?’_

_I felt uneasiness settle in my gut. Did he mean the clients? No… But he couldn’t have known about-_

_I had no more time to think as the man grabbed my throat in a vice-strong grip and basically growled. ‘Don’t pretend to be so fucking confused. What, you think I wouldn’t know? That I wouldn’t find out? How you begged that fucker for water and then drank it from him like a fucking dog?’ He shook my head strongly, not letting go of my throat. ‘Although, he did say that he was the one that offered…And well, since I can’t know that for certain, it only makes sense to punish both of you, wouldn’t you say?’_

_My eyes went wide as with the edge of my vision, I saw him take something out of his hoodie pocket and quickly brought it up to my face. My mind had trouble keeping up from the lack of oxygen. That’s when Keith let go of me, now holding the object with both hands. As I gasped for air, my eyes landed on the object once again; it was a bottle. With something dark in it, filling it up to about a half. It looked like blood. What-_

_Then I recalled Keith’s words about punishing Jean as well. Does that mean that-?_

_Once again, before I could figure it all out, and before I saturated my blood with the much-needed oxygen, my jaw was grabbed and forced open, with the mouth of the bottle forced between my teeth. It was all happening too fast for me to keep up. The bottle was tilted and the contents filled my mouth._

_It was blood. I could taste the iron._

_I panicked. I wanted to spit it out, to move my face away, but couldn’t. ‘Come on, drink it like a good dog. You drank from him, now drink from me. Although it’s still technically from him…’ There wasn’t anything that I could have done; my throat automatically took the gulps of still-warm blood, to prevent it from going down my windpipe._

_I wanted to throw up. I was going to throw up. And then, just on the last sip, something solid went down my throat._

_‘Oops, that might have been a fingernail that settled down on the bottom.’_

_That was when I could not stomach it down anymore. I felt the blood, along with the nail, come back up my throat, and I didn’t even think about the beating I was going to get for vomiting all over Keith. But before I even realised it, my mouth was forced shut and sealed with layers of duct tape. A hand clasped around my mouth as well, as if the tape was not enough. I could feel the smooth fingernail, along with something small and soft – presumably a piece of torn flesh stuck to the nail – on my tongue. I couldn’t hold it in. I had to throw up._

_But Keith wouldn’t have any mercy. His eyes were ice-cold, as he stared down at my struggling. ‘Swallow it. Come on, swallow it back. You’ll be doing a lot of these sorts of things here anyway, you might as well practise.’_

_I didn’t even notice the tears flowing freely from my eyes until they blurred my vision when I blinked. I felt the acid burn my throat. Keith gave me no choice again._

_I swallowed back the blood, the acid, and the fingernail. Which, unsurprisingly, caused me to immediately retch again, filling up my mouth with the disgusting mix once more._

_‘Good pig. Now swallow it again.’_

_Groaning in agony and crying, I did. Then I vomited in my mouth again. He ordered me to swallow. So I did. I felt a few acidic drops run out through my nose._

_I lost count how many times this repeated itself, but by the time I could finally keep the vomit in my stomach, my throat was on fire, my head hurt from the crying, and I felt dizzy and feverish. With the corner of my eye I could see that a few people have gathered around to watch the morbid spectacle; I didn’t know if they were clients or slaves or both; I could not focus my eyes on anything. I let my head drop onto my chest._

_‘Now, now. You shouldn’t be thirsty anymore now.’ Keith patted my cheek with patronising, fake affection. ‘See ya in a few hours.’ The tears continued to flow for a long time after he had left._

_I don’t remember much of what happened after that. The next time I regained consciousness was on a bed in a cell, which I later learned was our ‘room’, Jean’s and mine._

_‘You made it out alive then.’ His voice reached me from across the room. ‘Well then. Welcome to our lovely shared pigs pen. Make yourself at home. Enjoy your stay.’ He spoke in a deadpan voice as he lay on his bed, cradling a bandaged hand._

 

 

Tears prickle at my eyes and I turn my head to face the wall.


	2. The Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much shorter than the previous one, but I figured that I probably won't post 8k word chapters very often ^^'

The ointment keeps true to its label and, while it helps me heal and somehow numbs the pain, my head is in bits. The fact that I’m being used only for blowjobs these days and get oxygen-deprived on a nightly basis really isn’t helping this either.

It must be the fourth or the fifth day of this strange treatment, and I’m simply snapping. At everything and everyone. Even Keith; feeling the burn of the slap on my face still. Even Jean, but he knows the reason, so he doesn’t take it personally. We just end up bickering harmlessly as usual. This attitude can’t help me when I’ll be passed around, sucking off clients. I guess I’ll have to make an even greater effort into biting back any remarks.

As for the past few days, I get ready a bit earlier than usual and head off to Keith’s office. Giving myself a final quick once over in front of his door, I grimace at how the black leather pants hang low around my hips; I must have lost some weight again… I guess one positive side of that, is that the material doesn’t sit tight around my body in such an obscene way anymore. Whatever. Rolling back my shoulders, I knock on the door twice and enter without waiting to be told. Fuck Keith and his stupid ideas anyway.

He doesn’t grace me with a single word as I stand in front of his desk with my hands behind my back. I stand like this, motionlessly for a while, and just as I’m about to start giving out and complaining, the man gets up from his seat, seemingly finished with whatever he’s been writing, and takes the rope from the bottom drawer of the desk. Still without a word, he walks behind me and ties my arms together securely, from my wrists up to my elbows with a speed which speaks of hundreds of practises. My general annoyance somewhat dissipates as being tied up automatically throws me into a sub mode, against my will. I frown, thinking of how this sadist has conditioned me. Like a fucking dog.

Just like the previous nights, he hangs a white plastic plaque around my neck so that it rests against my bare chest. I don’t need to look at it to know what’s written there; something along the lines of ‘Blowjobs Only’. How unfortunate for Keith; his toy got broken and currently can’t provide full services, so will not earn as much. How fucking unfortunate.

He heads to the main room and I follow him with slight trouble, as having my arms behind me throws me slightly off balance. After putting the usual tag on my collar, he dismisses me with a wave of his hand, and I go over to my designated spot. Which, all things considering, isn’t all that bad. I mean, instead of a plush armchair, I could have been made to kneel on the floor for the entire night. Of course, that would make me less visible; obviously that’s the only reasoning behind it. Not that Keith would ever consider the comfort of his slaves. If such a thing could even exist in this place.

People start filling in the room gradually, and a few hands probe me every now and again, but apparently no one is interested in broken goods with limited usage. Well, aren’t I so goddamn lucky.

Kneeling there idly leaves me a lot of time to think these days. And when I do that, it usually doesn’t end too well. Because, surely enough, me thinking too much leads to some sort of escape plan or at least messing up my current situation even more than it is already. How many times has it been since I’ve tried to escape? It must have been at least five over the course of almost a year. Doesn’t sound like much in retrospective, but apparently, I’m in the lead when it comes to disobedience here. And of course, they catch me each time. Having grown up in that small, poor village of Shiganshina, the city of Trost is simply way too daunting and overwhelming to me. And maybe, just maybe, it isn’t all about me getting lost in the city. Maybe it’s the fact that this fucker Keith knows what happened with my sister and is my only link to her. Maybe it’s the fact that once a month he allows me to talk to her for 3 minutes on the phone. Three minutes is all I have. And it’s what I live for. That fucker knows this; from the first moment he showed up in that orphanage he knew my weakness and has exploited it since then. I leave here for good, and I lose my only connection with Mikasa. I don’t know how I’d be able to survive this. But on the other hand, neither do I know how long I can handle the continuous torture.

A shadow blocking me from the main light in the ceiling in the room disturbs me from my thoughts and makes me look up. Another pervert eyes me with a hungry gaze and I grimace, looking away. Some fucking douche in a suit with sunglasses on top of his head. Inside. At night. I can bet my ass he drives some ridiculous, frivolous and expensive car, just to show off how much money he’s got from kissing his superiors’ asses; then he comes down to a place like this to boss someone else around, to make himself feel better. Fucking pathetic. I hate him already.

My frown deepens as another pang shoots through my temples. Goddammit, what on earth did Jean give me to shove up my ass? Substituting one pain with another. Ridiculous. On top of that, the fucker is unzipping his pants, taking his dick out without even a single word. Doesn’t he know that payment is upfront? Whatever, I’m here to suck losers off, not to worry about Keith’s money.

‘Hah, look at those fierce eyes. Bet they’re the cause of your ass being out of order, huh?’ His voice is too loud, way too fucking loud for my current headache. Yet, the only thing I can do is groan in annoyance as he shoves his rather medium-sized shaft into my mouth. Well, at least I won’t be getting gagged with this one.

Might not be getting gagged, but this prick really doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on here. It doesn’t take long before he’s bending over me and starts prodding at my behind. I tear my mouth away from his crotch. ‘What the fuck, can you not read? Blowjobs only!’ I snap at him. He must be goddamn dense; he only pulls my buttocks apart in response to my words. ‘HEY! Stop, fuckin’, don- stop it, don’t touch me!’

‘Do what you’re meant to do, and stop overreacting.’ He forces me back onto his cock to shut me up. ‘A bit of fingering won’t kill you.’ Wait, a bit of wha-

The next thing I know is searing pain shooting through me as at least two fingers are shoved unceremoniously into my still aching behind. Trying to wriggle away from his touch I only impale my throat further onto his shaft and I gargle in pain around it. Saliva and precome dribbles disgustingly down my chin. Fuck that bastard, I’ve had enough. I bite down hard.

He shouts, pulling away and immediately slapping me so hard across the face that my vision goes fuzzy for a moment. Damn, was it blood I tasted in my mouth? Shit. Well, he did deserve it. If not for simply for being here, then at least for not following the rules.

As he roars a string of curses at me, Keith shows up, demanding an explanation. Well, this ain’t good. Surely enough, he understands pretty quickly, and I receive another hard slap. Now they’re both shouting, and I don’t even bother to keep up with it, especially with this vicious headache I’m getting, until the shouting somewhat subsides.

‘I do apologize for this occurrence, sir. I assure you the slave will be punished accordingly. Meanwhile, please help yourself to any of the other slaves.’ Keith was trying to be polite and apologetic, which didn’t suit him one bit. The bastard was seething underneath this thin façade. ‘On the house.’

‘I don’t want to have anything to do with this fucking place, or with any more fucking imbeciles you’re keeping here! I’ll be sure to warn anyone to never fucking come here. Bunch of cunts!’ He literally spits on Keith’s shoes as he tucks himself back into his pants and storms out of the room.

Well, that was a scene. Everyone is staring in our direction.

After a moment of heavy silence, Keith flips out his mobile phone. ‘Don’t let me distract you, gentlemen. Feel free to return to your activities.’ He spoke with a steady voice as he tapped something on the device, then brought it to his ear. After a moment, he spoke. ‘Nile. Come stand at the front desk in the main room, will you? I got some business to take care of.’ With these words, he finally fixes me with a deadly gaze. As much as I hate to admit it, it chilled me to the bone.

Surely enough, as soon as the phone is back in his pocket, I’m dragged to my feet and out of the main room, down the dark corridor. I have my suspicions as to where I’m being taken, and indeed, Keith is predictable. The isolation cell. A tiny, dark, and cold room with nothing but an old bucket for physiological needs. This place is certainly not new to me.

I’m shoved roughly inside. With my arms still behind my back, I lose my balance and fall face first onto the cold floor. Keith walks up and looms over me, before shoving his shoe in front of my face. ‘Lick it off.’ I warily eye his mud and spit covered shoe. I want to do nothing else but protest, but I know I’m completely screwed already. It is never a good sign when this maniac is so calm and composed; the punishments are always easier when he’s screaming his head off at me. So, without a choice, I get to work.

Once his shoe is cleaner than it was before it was spat on and my mouth tastes like sand, he walks out of the room without a word again, locking the door behind him, leaving me in complete darkness. That couldn’t have been it, could it? Surely he’d have a more severe punishment up his sleeve?

Of course, Keith does not disappoint. The heavy lock is loudly opened and light from the corridor floods in, partially blocked by that freak’s body. By then I’ve managed to get myself to at least a kneeling position. I squint at him, trying to figure out what he’s holding in his hands.

‘Don’t bother getting up.’

These words are the only warning I get before my head is forced down back onto the floor, making my behind stick up obscenely in the air. He pulls my leather pants down, and a hand rests on one of my bare cheeks. Why is he wearing gloves though?

‘Now. Listen here, you little cunt. You’ve caused me enough trouble before, but this was just the final straw. I allow your sorry ass to heal, losing money, and this is how you repay me. But mark my words, this is the last time I’ve let this happen.’ I hear a noise behind me, something like the sloshing of water in an enema bag. What sort of punishment is this supposed to be? And what is he on about? ‘You’ll be surely delighted to hear that next weekend I’m holding another auction here. And you’ll be the main feature there. Aren’t you glad? I’m selling off your pathetic ass to some pervert willing to put up with its disobedience. Are you happy now, Eren?’

Before I can come to terms with what he just said, something is, yet again, inserted into my rectum, and through the pain I immediately realise it is indeed an enema bag tube. ‘And here’s your final punishment.’

Fire.

That’s the only thing I can feel.

It starts as a slow trickle, but it puts my body in flames nonetheless. I choke on my screams as he holds my head down with one hand, and forces boiling water into me with the other. I can’t think straight. I’m forming incomprehensible words, I’m begging, I’m crying, I’m sobbing. God, it burns, it BURNS! ‘Please, STOP, I- Gh- GOD, please, I’m sorry, please, please NO, please STOP, I can’t take it! Keith PLEASE, have mercy! Oh God-’

‘Of course you can take it. If you couldn’t, you wouldn’t have behaved like that. You obviously wanted that kind of punishment.’

‘No no no, please, stop it! I’m so sorry, I’ll do- aghh! Anything, I’ll- anything, GOD, just please stop!!’

I keep begging him, despite knowing it’s no use, until my voice is gone. I beg him until my entire lower body goes numb and I can’t keep myself up on my knees anymore, and my body falls limply to the side. There is no more energy or will to fight or beg in me, and I lie there, tears running down my cheeks silently as I wish to simply die at that moment. I don’t care about anything anymore.

I lost all sense of time; I don’t know how long it is until the tube is removed. It could have been minutes as well as hours or days. Not like it matters. The only indication of the torture being finished however, is the heat slowly pooling around my feet. It’s not like I can feel the water flowing out of me; most of my body is still numb, which, come to think of it, is probably for the best.

‘Now, you’re gonna stay here until the auction, so that you can’t cause me any more trouble. Sweet dreams.’ I barely register his words, and the sound of the door being shut and locked seems to be coming from miles away.

Finally, I find myself in complete silence and darkness once again; still tied up, and with my trousers still tangled around my knees. Filthy and broken. That’s all I am.


	3. The Auction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone supporting me! Your comments and kudos make me really happy, and I'm glad some people are enjoying this darkness :')  
> I really hope to post the next chapter asap, as this one seems to be kind of cut in the middle. But I kind of wanted to split it into 2 chapters, instead of having a really long, 10k word one or so ^^'

For the next unidentified amount of time I drift in an out of consciousness. I’m still in the same position in which Keith had left me; I just don’t have enough energy, or reason, to move. Arguably, there are some markers which are the evidence of passing time, such as my arms going numb from being tied up for so long, thirst, starting to get hungry, or being cold; but these things don’t really provide me with much information. I’m way too used to them. And of course, it’s not like I’m ever fully conscious.

At some stage the ropes disappear without me even realising it. My trousers, the last piece of clothing, are gone too. Looks like they’ve been traded for a glass of water standing near me. It’s cold, like everything. What I wouldn’t do for there to be boiling water _now_ , in this glass.

After downing it in one go, I lay back on the floor, curling up on myself and wrapping myself in my own arms. I don’t know how much longer until the auction, but it must be another few days. No, I don’t let myself think about that. I don’t want to dwell on the pros and cons of being sold, not now. Sure, being here without any kind of distraction would be a great opportunity to think this through, but there’s no point. I’ll only drive myself insane. So I force any kind of thoughts out of my head and try to fall asleep just to pass the time.

It’s a strange feeling. I’m conscious and awake again, and nothing has changed in the slightest. Noise level, brightness in the room, nothing. Everything is still cold, dark, and silent. Or maybe it’s because I’ve slept for such a short time.

I don’t realise I’ve dozed off again until the loud door and sound of footsteps jerk me back into reality again. It’s Keith. He doesn’t say anything, just throws a single slice of dry bread beside the now empty glass he must have brought previously. Now is my chance to get some grasp on reality. ‘Ke- Keith.’ I’m surprised at how weak my voice is from disuse. I can barely hear it myself. I try again. ‘Keith. W… What day. Is it.’ I have no idea whether he heard or he was simply being his usual awful self, but he leaves without giving me any information. I guess both options are equally plausible in these circumstances.

Just to change the ‘scenery’ a bit, I crawl to another corner of the cell. The next time Keith comes to bring me water, I’m awake and ask him immediately. ‘Please. Keith. What d- Keith, are- are you really. Selling me?’

Now that got him talking. ‘I said so, didn’t I? I don’t want to see your face around here anymore, you spoiled shit!’

‘Will… will you let me say goodbye to Jean?’

I can see him making a weird face in the dark; some mixture of disbelief and disgust. ‘Are you fucking kidding me? He’s got other things to do. And it's not like we're running a fucking kindergarten here.’

‘But… just five minutes, please, he- He just. Is a friend.’

‘Listen, you filth. Looks like you’ve got some things wrong. I don’t. Fucking. Care.’

For some reason, I can’t recall him leaving. Did I pass out from hunger before he did? Maybe. He comes around once or twice again, and once more, I ask him about Jean. Since it only ends with a kick to the ribs, I stop asking. I don’t know if he comes much more. I don’t even know if all these times he was in here were real or if it was me slowly losing it.

At some stage, different footsteps echo down the corridor. Someone else is coming. The bit where the door is being opened and I’m hauled to my feet is also missing from my memory. Maybe it was incinerated with the blinding light that assaulted my eyes once I was out of the dark cell?

The man, Nile, Keith’s right hand, brings me to something which resembles a storage room. I notice a few other slaves being tended to by some other staff members. I furrow my brow, not being able to fully grasp the situation in front of me. ‘The auction is in 4 hours or so. My job is to make you presentable. And don’t you even think about being a pain in the ass and making this hard for me. Keith gave me permission to sedate you with weak tranquilisers if you go off the rails. You hear me, you freak?’ I wince at his loud voice but nod nonetheless.

‘Alright.’ He turns away from me, starting to rummage through one of the many cardboard boxes in the room. ‘Take this and go get a shower over there.’ Nile hands me a towel and points to a door, probably leading to a bathroom. ‘Do it properly. Don’t make me do it again for you, understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’ It quietly slips out before I can catch it. I hate myself for saying it, for showing submission, but I… just don’t think I’d be able to handle any more torture right now. I’m just so tired. And, no matter how much I don’t want to admit it… I’m afraid.

So with this fear in my heart, I scrub at my body in the shower until my skin turns a sore-looking red. As I look at myself, tearing at my body with the rough sponge, a strange feeling washes over me along with the hot water. It feels as if I peel away levels of anger off myself. I try to hold onto them, the anger and the hatred; they’re what always kept me alive and on my feet, kept me from giving into submission. But now, I just see how pointless it is. Why am I even resisting? It’s not like I have any pride or dignity left. My body has been used in every way possible, for all kinds of disgusting fantasies, and more. I’ve begged and cried in front of those men countless times…So really, it’s hysterical that I even tried to hold onto the illusion of pride. It only brings me pain. Nothing else. And now, I’ll be sold off to someone who’ll have the opportunity to torture me all day long. Here, at least I had breaks in between the nights, and there was a time limit to how long a customer could have used me for. Now, this is over. My owner will have me cuffed to a bed for a week straight, if he’ll only feel like it, and there’ll be no one to stop him. Keith won’t be around to prevent him from damaging his toy. I’ll be my master’s to use and abuse. He will have the right. Including legal rights. In the light of the law, as a slave, especially coming from an orphanage, the only right I have is the right to live. An owner might do anything to me, except kill me. Because since I come from an orphanage, I obviously have no family or relatives to take care of me; I won’t go to school, be educated, and thus contribute to society in any constructive way. So my only use is to be a slave, an object. Things have been like that since the civil war 25 years ago, caused by overpopulation. Looks like I was just born in the wrong place at the wrong time. And on top of that, I’ll lose _all_ contact with Mikasa now.

I finally drag myself out of the small bathroom, shaking from the cold. Nile grabs my face and forces fingers into my mouth before I even close the door fully. An embarrassing whine escapes me as my throat automatically constricts around his fingers. ‘Swallow.’ He then brings a water bottle to my lips. And so I swallow.

‘W-what did you give me?’ I hate how fragile my voice sounds. Shower thoughts really took their toll on me.

‘A pill.’ I give him a questioning look. His dark smirk isn’t very comforting. ‘To keep little Eren up and pretty all night. Should start working soon. Meanwhile, show me if you’ve cleaned yourself up properly.’

I don’t resist as he touches and prods me all over, including my almost-healed but still awfully sensitive hole. He doesn’t say anything so I assume – and hope – that I’ve done enough. I let him move me this way and that, let him bring my arms behind my back and tie them with a rope. I let him use the leftover rope to tie some sort of sophisticated knots around my torso. I let him, because I have no other choice.

‘Now. Sit down on this bench and spread your legs.’ Shame burns at my cheeks but I get into the lewd position. He squats in front of me, between my knees, and starts stroking my shaft. The pill must be working now, as I feel anything but arousal, and yet, I feel myself getting hard in his grasp. The man continues to pump me roughly to full hardness despite my whimpers. Then he stops. ‘Time for the final ribbon.’ I look down just to see him reach for another piece of rope from beside me on the bench.

Unsurprised, but still disgusted, I wince as he ties the rope around my scrotum and the base of my penis, and then continues with more complex knots further up my shaft. It’s tight, it’s uncomfortable, and with the aim to keep me on the edge but not allowing to fall from it. And Nile is just grinning evilly.

‘Right.’ He looks at his phone. ‘We’ve still got time left. So you sit and wait here, I’ll be back later to do some finishing touches.’

And then, he just leaves. Leaves me like this, tied up in the weirdest of ways, naked, and without a way to relieve my forced erection. I sigh, letting my head fall back and hit the wall behind me. This is absolutely dreadful. Really not a big fan of these lengthy times of inactivity when I have too much time to think. Because, surely enough, the thought of suicide comes up in my mind. It’s not a foreign thought to me; I have thought about it countless times. I think anyone would, in my situation. Yet I never properly considered; just entertained the thought of it. Never, until now. There isn’t really any hope that things will get better. They only have the potential to go the opposite way. There’s no chance for me to successfully run away; I wouldn’t be surprised if my new owner would want to permanently brand me. A burn, a tattoo; I’ve heard that these are quite popular. Anyone who would see me then would know that I’m a runaway slave. I close my eyes and smile to myself. No matter how monitored and controlled I’ll be, there won’t be a chance that he’ll always have his eye on me. This is the one thing I’ll have control over.

‘What in the fuck are you smiling for? You like being tied up that much, fag?’ My eyes snap open at the sound of Nile’s voice above me. How long was he gone for? Did I doze off? He scoffs at me as I try to gather my thoughts together for an answer. ‘Open your mouth’, he orders as he brings a ball gag into my field of view.

‘N-no, not that, no!’ I press myself more into the wall, as if that’s going to help.

‘You piece of shit, open your goddamn mouth or I’ll whip you there in front of all the visitors at the auction!’ Nile shouts at me as he grabs my face forcefully, prying my mouth open and shoving the ball behind my teeth despite my struggling. He stands up after securing the strap at the back of my head. ‘See now, did you have to make it difficult? Get up.’

Because of the binds, walking is difficult again and I almost fall down the stairs, but we manage to reach the auction room without any major fuck-ups on my part. When we pass through the double doors, I’m greeted with a… disturbing view. Rather unsettling in its normalcy. Probably because I expected something flashy; whips, chains, and paddles hanging in various points along the walls, red leather couches for perverts to sit back in and enjoy the view; like in the main room. In contrast, this room looks like some sort of an art exhibition area, like the one which Mikasa and I sneaked into as kids. The walls and the floor are white, there is no furniture, except for few very short ‘podiums’, littered around the floor at different locations, with what looks like an information stand beside each.

‘Think your one is somewhere around the centre. Come on.’ Nile pulls at my ropes to follow him. ‘There we go. Eren Jäger. That’s your stand. Come on, get up on it, and on your knees.’

Shaking from fear, nerves, and cold, I do what Nile tells me, although every single instinct screams at me to run. It is only then that I realise the podiums come with some ‘features’. There are cuffs for the feet, which Nile snaps closed as soon as I’m on my knees. Then, to finish off my helplessness, my head is forced down to a rod with a metal collar protruding from the podium. Fuck no. No, no, no. Fuck submission and fuck obedience, I’m not doing this!

Of course, my struggling doesn’t get me far and my neck is tightly secured by the metal. I have now no position to move whatsoever. I can’t even look up; I’ll have no idea about who’s standing above me if I won’t see them approaching first. My whole stomach is in knots and I want to throw up. Cold sweat starts to cover my body. My face is pretty quickly covered in sweat, snot, and tears, as I whine and try to get Nile to give me at least a bit of freedom of movement. To my utter surprise, he squats in front of me and pulls out he ball gag out of my mouth and down to my chin.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you now?’

‘P-please, I.  Can’t, I. C-claustrophobic, I feel so cla-claustrophobic, I can’t, I’ll pass out, d-die. I’ll die!’

‘You total freak’, he laughs as he forces the gag back into my mouth. ‘But sure if you don’t like this position so much, then you better wiggle your ass and bat your eyelashes at anyone walking by so you’ll get released, eh?’ I glare at him, wishing he would just die right there. But he just pats my face in a way that’s too forceful to be a show of fake affection, but not strong enough to be considered a slap. He stands up so that I can’t see him fully anymore, and walks away.

This gives me a chance to get a better, but still limited, look around the place once my struggling and panic somewhat subsides. Within my field of view, I see two other slaves being treated in the same way as me by some two other staff members. The two boys seem to be at least slightly younger than me; I’ve never seen them before. Their desperate crying and the utter terror in their eyes only support my theory that they must be new, perhaps kidnapped, taken off the streets or from an orphanage only a few days ago. I look away; it’s hard for me to bear my own suffering. Witnessing even more might just make me go insane.

As time passes and the ache in my body increases, more and more voices fill the room. From what I could see, they weren’t customers; just more slaves and staff. I try to zone them out. All of this is just becoming too much. I close my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. God, how much I hated myself for becoming so weak.

Whatever I managed to achieve in terms of steady breathing goes right out the window as the heavy doors open and a group of unknown men stands in the threshold. Oh God, they must be the customers. I swallow a thick lump in my throat as I eye them warily; being far enough from the door allows me to see their faces if I strain my neck high enough.

‘Dear gentlemen’, Keith’s voice booming from somewhere behind me, in the back of the room, makes me jump up. ‘Welcome to our monthly auction. I see not everyone who’s enlisted has arrived yet, but since we’re right on time, we’ll start now and allow the rest of our friends to arrive at their convenience. To reiterate the basic rules, especially for the benefit of anyone visiting for the first time; feel free to touch a product of your interest to test, but no intercourse is allowed. Please read the product descriptions carefully on the stands provided, and if you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to ask either me or any other staff member. Again, thank you for coming, and I hope you’ll enjoy our new stock.’

I just kneel there, dumbfounded, staring at the floor. For a sick, perverted sadist, Keith can be sometimes well spoken, when he needs to be. I would be almost impressed, if it wasn’t for the fact that he speaks of us as we are grocery items. I hear a low murmur coming from the small group of customers, a few claps, as if Keith’s speech was a performance in itself, and finally, footsteps echoing all around the room as the crowd disperses.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’m petrified. I’m angry, but the fear of the fact that I am absolutely unable to do anything, to protect myself in any way is much greater. What if I just make a scene and nobody buys me? Sure, Keith would probably whip me into the next dimension and throw me into the isolation cell again, but it can’t be much worse than whatever one of these perverted fucks have in store for me.

I gasp and almost jump out of my skin as I feel someone touch me; even though the touch isn’t painful. It’s just a hand on my behind, but it takes me by utter surprise. Another man is standing in front of me, and I hear him speak. ‘Well I’ll be damned. Says here he’s trained for over a year! And shit, a body like that… Why are they selling him so cheaply though then?’

‘How much is he going for?’ The one behind me asks. They must be together. Oh _God_ , as if one is not enough.

‘Just for 1,500,000 yen, what the hell.’

‘Seems like he’s got some anal fissure though.’

‘Yeah, they mention it in the description but sure, that’s only temporary. It shouldn’t bring the price down that much? Ah, alright. See, they say here to ask for further details. So there must be something fishy about him, so that they don’t even want to put in in the description. Let’s go look for something else.’ And with that, they move onto the next stand.

Not even 2,000,000 yen… Is that all my life is worth? Animals… Fucking animals. One day, I’ll exterminate them. All of them.

For the next half an hour or so, the auction goes on without anyone paying any special kind of attention to me. Some people prod at me like I’m cattle; they touch my backside, pull my ropes, and stick fingers in my mouth. None of them seem to be too interested though, for which I’m naturally grateful. I see some new people come, and some people leave. Others walk with a staff member and their new slave to another room somewhere to the right of me, probably to proceed with the payment. But then, a particular pair of people enters the room and spikes my interest. Mainly because one of these people is a woman.

I have never seen a woman in this place, and I always pretty much assumed that this pigpen was exclusively for men. Well, looks like I was wrong. I take a good look at her. Really tall and quite muscular, with glasses and brown messy hair in a ponytail. Surprisingly, her face doesn’t look too evil. Maybe this was my chance? If I could get a woman to buy me, maybe I wouldn’t be tortured as much? No. That’s ridiculous. There’s absolutely no reason for me to think that she’d be gentler if she’s a woman. She came to a slave exhibition, for fucks sake.

In addition, her partner – assuming he’s her partner, judging from the way she’s holding his hand – doesn’t seem to be as ‘safe’ as she is. Despite being almost comically short – he really cannot be taller than 1.6m – he gives off a dangerous aura that sends shivers down my spine. His face is completely stoic as he walks through the room, not seeming to actually look at any of the slaves as if he didn’t want to come here at all. The long black bangs of hair fall into his disinterested eyes as his friend drags him from one stand to the next. They’re both dressed in black suit pants and white shirts, with the man having an additional cravat. Then suddenly something dark blocks my view.

‘Weeell then, Eren. Looks like Keith is finally selling your disobedient ass?’ Oh no. That voice. I remember it. I remember it all too well and I want to disappear right now. Of all people, he must show an interest in me. How unlucky can I get? I quickly find out, as he squats in front of me and grabs my chin forcefully, making me look at his fat disgusting face. ‘Remember me, kid? Ahh, we had so much fun together the last time I saw you. I still remember how you wailed like pig being slaughtered. Maybe we’ll get to do that again soon and on a more regular basis, hm?’ The only thing I can do is growl through the gag and glare at him. He laughs at me, some spit landing on my face. ‘Look at you, growling like a dog!’

‘Dimo Reeves, my good friend! I haven’t seen you for so long, where have you been?’ Fuck. Now Keith is behind me. This literally cannot get any worse.

The fat old man stands back up; at least I don’t have to look at his face anymore. ‘Ah, I’ve just been so busy these days. Had some trouble with my slave, too.’

‘Unbelievable. Marco caused you trouble?’ I freeze. So that’s whom this gentle, kind, caring boy was sold off to? God, I remember him. They brought me here just around two weeks before he was sold, but it was enough to get to know his calm, yet incredibly brave disposition. He never would have anyone worrying for him; he never cried, no matter how hurt he was. He’d often joke and play around with the few prepubescent boys to bring them some comfort and distraction from the horrors that their small fragile bodies had to endure during the nights.

‘No, no, not _that_ kind of trouble, he was always obedient. The trouble is that I took him out for one night with my friends to play with. They brought some of their friends too, and dammit, one of them must have had some disease and didn’t use a condom. So Marco must have caught something from them. He expired pretty quickly. So I’m looking for a new toy now.’

‘Ah I see, I see, that’s fair.’

Oh God… Oh God. What the fuck- Expired? _Expired?!_ Is this that fucker’s way of saying he simply killed the innocent boy?! And that’s fair? FAIR? Is that you all have to say?! How is that fair, both of you twisted fucks, you fucking bastards! Once I get out of these bonds I’ll kill fucking both of you with my bare hands, I’ll tear you apart limb by limb!

‘Stop making such noises like a little bitch, I promise I’ll try harder to ensure that everyone’s wearing a condom before fucking if I’ll be sharing you.’ Apparently this is funny, because both of them laugh.

‘So, you want to buy him?’ I can swear I can hear some sort of twisted hope in Keith’s voice. Oh, he just can’t wait to get me off his hands, can he.

‘I’m definitely interested, but I’m gonna go have a look at the rest of the goods. I’m quite used to having my slaves innocent and obedient.’

‘Very well, talk to you soon then.’

I can’t… I simply can’t believe the things I’ve just heard. Marco is dead. All he ever wanted was to help everyone, and what did he get from it? He got shame and humiliation, pain and violence, and finally death. Such a horrible, horrible death. God, how would Jean handle that? They were so close together, like brothers. Or perhaps something less platonic, but I never pried. It’s not fair, it’s just so not fair…

‘Oh, hello there, welcome! It’s the first time I’m seeing you here, thank you for coming. Are you enjoying what we have here?’ Keith’s loud voice booms again. I lift my gaze from the floor and my eyes are now level with two pairs of black dress pants. Are these- ‘It’s the first time in a very long time since we had a lady visitor here. Are you both looking for an individual toy or would you like to buy a single one for you both?’

‘I’m Hanji Zoë. Actually, we’re just looking for some _one_ for my friend here, Mister Levi Ackerman.’ The woman speaks up from above me. Her voice is loud and clear too, but it doesn’t sound threatening.

‘Ah I see. Perhaps then you’d like to have a look at our Eren here. See, he’s a bit special, compared to the rest of the items we have today. He’s actually been here with us for around a year, so he’s very well experienced and accustomed to a large variety of sexual uses. He could give good blowjob in this sleep, probably. If that’s what you’re into, if you know what I mean’, Keith laughs, but the two customers don't join him. ‘And customers were pretty much always very happy with him. So you might ask, why are we selling him. Well, I’m going to be honest; Eren here has a bit of a temper. Some might view it as an advantage, but in my place, with the amount of workers I have here, I simply cannot give so much attention to a single one. He’s caused us, the staff, some trouble now and then, to the point of attempting an escape. I’m telling you all this, as I don’t want you to be disappointed, and come back to me in one week, saying that you expected a more obedient toy. I believe that whoever will be buying him must be aware and accept that he won’t always play along.’

There is a bit of silence after Keith’s long speech, the customers probably mulling over how bad of an idea it would be to buy me. But then I realise… God, if those two won’t buy me, then that reeking Reeves will. And that absolutely can’t happen. Somehow, I need to convince these two, that I’m worth buying. They might not be nice people; I mean, come on, nice people don’t come to such places, so this is about picking the lesser evil here. And I find it hard to believe that these two would just happen to be worse than him. But sure, after Keith’s introduction, making them buy me won’t be that easy anymore. Shit!

‘Is this the main reason why he only costs 1,500,000 yen?’ The Zoë woman speaks again.

‘Well, yes, indirectly. Due to that behaviour of his, I can only put him on standard guarantee instead of the full one, and that drops down the price a lot.’

‘What is that supposed to mean.’ These are the first words I hear the other customer speak, and, my God, they freeze me. If from far away I thought he gave off an air of superiority, then having him speak right above me is downright _authoritative_. That voice would probably make me kneel if I weren’t already. It is low, but without being thick and heavy. For some reason, it makes me think of the crackling of wood in a flame. I can’t be sure why, or what else it reminds me of, but I know one thing; it’s a voice that doesn’t accept refusal. He asks you a question; you answer it.

‘See, the normal full guarantee is for three months, and if within that time a slave rebels, runs away, or just generally behaves in an unsatisfactory manner, you’re eligible for a refund or a replacement. With the basic guarantee, you’re only covered in the most extreme cases; a slave doing something to intentionally endanger your life, health, or significantly damage other property. That’s why the price is so noticeably lower.’

‘Is there anything else we should know?’ The woman spoke again.

‘As stated in the product description, he’s got an anal fissure, but it’s mainly healed now. We’ve been treating him with ointments, but they just didn’t seem to work for him. We let it heal naturally.’ Yeah, right, you goddamn liar. If it wasn’t for Jean…

‘Do you mind if I inspect?’ What? Inspect… my tearing? No, no, no, Keith, don’t let her-

‘Work away.’ Shit. No. I bite down on the gag. God, this is so humiliating. And it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt again.

The snapping sound of a latex glove makes me whine pathetically in surprise and fear. She certainly came prepared. Hearing her footsteps come around and behind me, I’m starting to panic. But then, something odd happens. I feel a hand in my hair. I immediately recognise it as _not_ being Keith’s; he grabbed me by my hair way too many times for me to not recognise his hand. No, this time, I felt cold, slender fingers trace over my scalp. I instinctively tense up and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the hand to clench and for the pain to tear at my skin.

But the pain doesn’t come. Mr. Ackerman’s hand just rests on my head. In tiny, whimpering huffs, I let out the breath I don’t realise I’ve been holding. The hand makes the most minute movements back and forth across my scalp, and despite the man being utterly intimidating, it does somehow manage to ease the discomfort of his female friend pulling my buttocks apart and slipping a single digit inside me. I try to dissociate myself from that feeling. Instead, I’m doing all I can to focus on the gentle hand caressing my head. My throat feels constricted, my eyes feel heavy with sudden tears, and there’s some strange feeling of warmth going through my chest. It’s oddly pleasant. I realise that they’re coming from the thought that this is the first time someone, except for Mikasa, has touched me in a gentle way. Someone who didn’t _have to_ touch me; didn’t have to tie me down, lead me to somewhere, or lift me up. And yet, this man did, with the single purpose of providing me with some comfort. That single touch of his hand and my soul is sold. Now I just hope my body will get to follow.


	4. The Ailment

All too soon, the woman is standing in front of me again, and the man’s hand is gone. I’m so grateful for this brief, gentle touch; yet I just want more. I’m starving for it, for some kindness. I would curl at his feet and bow, make myself look pathetic, if he would just caress me like that again.

‘Looks good’, Hanji’s words interrupt my thoughts. ‘Well, not _good_ , but could be much worse. Looks clean, it’s healing well.’ I hear the snapping of latex again as she takes off the glove.

‘I’m glad you approve. Mr Ackerman, what do you think? Anything you’d like to do to check whether this could be your new toy?’ I bite into the gag at Keith’s words. Of course. This is normal. Treating me like an object. Gentle touches are not something that I should be receiving. There is no point to that. I’m just a fucktoy.

I wait for the mysterious man to say something. What I do not expect is him touching me again. This time, his cold fingertips touch my face, simply travelling down my cheeks, until they reach the leather strap of my gag. My entire body shudders for some reason when he slips a single digit under the strap, so close to my lips, gently poking the gag out of my mouth. Just as I feel my heart race up again, the touch disappears as fast as it came.

‘Take the gag off him.’

To my absolute shock, Keith actually complies and unbuckles the strap at the back of my head. Then it hits me; why the hell does he want the gag off? Is he going to make me suck him off? But Keith didn’t allow anything sexual in here, did he? But then, why would Mr Ackerman want my mouth free? No, it can’t be-

Then, just as few moments ago, the hand is back on my head. Just resting there, ever so gently, like a feather. I might lean into it just the slightest bit. I swallow through the dry lump in my throat, hating how disgusting the saliva dribbling down my chin makes me feel, now that the gag is out. I dread what’s to come, I don’t want to believe that someone whose touch can be so gentle and someone who’s about to force themselves into my mouth can be the same person. But, God… What am I expecting? This is what I’m here for. What he’s buying me for. No matter how gentle he _seems_ to be.

‘Tell me, Eren. Do you know the city well?’

What- What did he just say? My brain sort of short-circuits, and almost switches off. Surely, I misheard him. People are normally only interested in how well I can take a beating, how long they can choke me with their cocks until I start passing out, or whether they can fuck me two or three at a time. Not this. I stare at the way the shadows sneak at the fabric of his trousers, wide-eyed, trying to unscramble my brain, and find an answer for this utterly unexpected question. A quiet ‘umm’ accidentally escapes me in the process.

‘I asked you if you know your way around the city, kid. Are you from Trost?’

A yes-no question was slightly easier to answer, no matter how irrelevant or bizarre. ‘N-no. No, sir. I’m from Shiganshina, sir.’ He makes a brief noncommittal sound above me, which isn’t very informative about whether I gave the right answer or not. ‘B-but, I can learn, if… if that’s what you’d expect of me, sir.’ However that relates to his fetishes, I could perhaps get on board with it, and right now I will convince him I can be a goddamn tourist guide for this place, if that’s what will rub him the right way.

‘Ah, our little boy toy here already knows the city a bit from his little escapades, isn’t that right?’ I can’t believe Keith is using my disobedience as a way of getting me off his hands. Well, all of that is of course assuming that the strange short man actually _does_ want me to know my whereabouts.

I hear fabric rustling a second before the man squats in front of me. Just before we’re at eye level, I cast mine down; I know how peculiar some customers can be about eye contact; I’m not going to risk making him think that I was disrespecting him by looking him in the eye. In addition, I can’t deny that I’m a little afraid of his intimidating aura; having him so close gives me second thoughts on whether I want this man to be my master. Then again, is there any chance that any of those men here would not terrify me? Of course not. This Levi Ackerman seems to be my best shot. That’s it. This is the simple fact I’m working with here.

It feels strange staring at his black shoes with my face at the level of his. But once again, this awful collar contraption won’t let me bring my head down. My stomach goes sour as his right arm fills my vision.

Mr Ackerman lifts his hand up towards my neck. Oh God, will he choke me? That’s the first thing that appears in my head. When his fingers make contact with my skin just beside my quickened pulse, my body jolts and I gasp brokenly. No, he’s just too close, too close and I can’t move, I’m helpless, whatever he’ll do. But, seeing as I am not incinerated right then and there, I allow myself to stave off my panic. The touch doesn’t last long anyway; he briefly taps me there, then moves and splays his fingers just under my jaw. I manage to stay still and quiet. Relatively, at least. I’m pretty sure he can hear my heart hammering, and my breath quickening, as he runs his fingers over my cheek.

It seems as if he’s not intending to stop this strange ordeal; his hand reaches behind my neck, down my throat again, then my collarbones, my strained shoulders, and my ribs as far as he can reach. I wince. I’m not liking any of this, despite his touch being delicate, his fingers simply trailing over my cold goose bump-covered skin. When he starts feeling my ribs further down my stomach though, I can’t help but whimper and I finally break and look up at him. And then, once again, my brows furrow as my brain works to put the pieces together.

First, my breath is taken away by how uniquely _beautiful_ he is. Delicate face, yet with stern features, framed by purely black bangs. Then I notice; he isn’t burning holes in my flesh with his gaze like I expected him to be. He isn’t even _looking_ at me. In fact, his face isn’t even turned towards mine. It’s as if he is staring blankly at some spot around my feet, or something further behind me.

Except that he isn’t. His eyes are unfocused, and he isn’t blinking. With the corner of my own eye, I see his friend holding a white folded cane, almost shining in mockery for not being noticed by me before.

My God. Levi Ackerman is blind.

Something gets stuck in my chest, and I gasp before I can stop it. Mr Ackerman then turns his face and unseeing eyes towards my own. ‘No one taught you it’s rude to stare, brat?’

Mentally slapping myself, I break out of my stupor and bring my gaze down, wincing. I keep staring at the ground even as he gets up. Shit… Did I just screw myself over? ‘I- Sir, I’m… I beg your forgiveness, s-sir!’

‘Tch. Don’t think you can get cute with me, kid.’ His voice is just as expressionless as his eyes. His words leave me desperate and panicking, and in the slightest sense, just a bit genuinely guilty. Even if he was a pervert coming to a slave exhibition.

‘Master, sir… I am so sorry, I meant no offence, sir’, I say, determined to prevent him from hating me.

 ‘Oh Levi, give the boy a break. He’s petrified, but he’s trying his best.’ I am not entirely sure if Ms Zoë’s words are ironic, or if she really means what she said.

‘Tch. He’s so malnourished.’ The man’s voice has a strange, almost accusing tone to it. Was _that_ why he was touching me all over? Is he into plump, maybe overweight boys with bodies as soft as a woman’s? Is he disgusted by my jutting bones and evident ribs? Or maybe he has some food fetish? I don’t think I’d be able to handle that sort of thing.

Keith’s reply is disgusting as always. ‘Well, he’s doing a lot of exercise here, as you can imagine.’

‘What’s the exact cause of the tearing then? I’m pretty sure it’s not caused by him trying to take a large shit, since you seem to be barely feeding him?’ I squint my eyes at his words; the man has me confused again. That kind of crude talk doesn’t seem to fit a person with such pristine clothes and such gentle touch. But then again, I knew nothing about him.

That kind of humour of course earns a short laugh from Keith. ‘You’re of course right, yes. Some clients got a bit too… explorative, leading to this minor damage.’

‘Are you two lovebirds done chatting over my toy here? Cuz there’s some business to be done!’ I nearly throw up. Fuck. How blissful it felt, forgetting that Reeves is in the room.

‘ _Yours_?’ I hear Mr Ackerman drawing out the word strangely, as if he can’t believe the disgusting creature would interrupt him.

‘Dimo, so you made up your mind? Sticking with Eren then?’ Keith is way too cheerful for this. No, no, no. This isn’t supposed to be happening.

‘Excuse me.’ The short man’s words are frighteningly intimidating, again. ‘We were in the middle of a discussion, am I not correct?’

‘Ah but see, Mr Reeves here was interested in our little toy here fi-’

‘I’m buying him.’ My heart stops at Levi’s words. A shiver of anticipation runs through me; I’m aching to be lead out of here by this strange man as his slave, on a leash and on all fours if that’s what he’ll demand. Anything, just to escape from Reeves but my own lack of influence on the outcome of this auction leaves my skin crawling with fear and frustration.

I manage to look up to the woman to gauge her expression, and I’m not comforted. It’s like a lifeless mask, her eyes hidden by the way the light reflects from her glasses. Oh God. They won’t buy me. Reeves is Keith’s friend after all… These two will simply look for another slave, they won’t go out of their way to buy me in particular, will they? In whatever way Mr Ackerman tested me, he wasn’t satisfied; I don’t know my way around, and I’m too skinny. It won’t be too hard to find someone better, even right here, at this auction. No, this can’t be real…

‘Looks like we got ourselves a bit of a sticky situation, haven’t we?’ Keith stupidly laughs; perhaps his attempt to lighten the evidently increasing tension between the two buyers.

‘It’s a clear situation to me; I was interested in him first.’ Reeves persists, the sadistic pig.

‘Good sir, I think you have shown more interest in other slaves; I’ve been here for some time now, and haven’t seen you paying much attention to Eren.’ It’s strange, how such seemingly polite words can have so much venom and spite in them, more than any cursing would.

‘Say, Keith. Eren here is such a beauty; it’s only natural for him to be sold to someone who can appreciate it _properly_ , is it not?’ I choke on air. Did he just- My God, how _dare_ he.

‘That is quite enough.’ The woman’s voice is suddenly deep and cold, and as terrifying as her friend’s.

‘Hanji.’

‘Don’t ‘Hanji’ me, Levi. Now, how about we give Eren himself some say in the matter?’

Wait, what? Does she want to give me a choice? If it wasn’t so ridiculous and clearly a joke, I would be genuinely impressed.

For a first few moments Keith doesn’t say anything, acknowledging the woman’s words only with a scoff. I hear him move, and then, he’s unbuckling the collar, and placing a new one around my neck with a long thin chain attached to it. He speaks slowly, with some odd amusement in his voice. ‘I see. Well then, my little whore, do tell; whom would you like to be spreading your legs for?’

Of course. It would be so unlike Keith to _not_ remind me of what choice I was making. However cruel, however crude; he is actually right. But I don’t dwell on it too much, being too preoccupied by the illusion of my capability in begging him into selling me to the shorter man. Turning my head towards Levi, free from the earlier restricting collar, I bow my head towards his feet but not too low so that I may be heard.

‘I… I’d like to g-go with Master Ackerman, if… if he’ll have me.’

Heavy silence follows, charged with tension. Overcoming my terror of not actually being wanted, I look up and see Mr Ackerman extending a hand to my abuser and opening his palm for the other end of the chain. Out of the corner of my eye I see Reeves doing the same. My eyes follow Levi’s arm and hand until they lock with Keith’s. Of course. The final decision will be his.

Before I know it, words so quiet I barely hear them myself spill out of my mouth. ‘Keith, please… Mercy. Just this once. Please…’ I stare into his soulless, dark, and expressionless eyes, begging with my gaze for what seems like forever. Then there’s a smallest change in his eyes that I would not be able to describe in words, accompanied with a barely existent sadistic smirk. And it tells me everything.

There’s ringing in my ears and my lungs stop as my leash is handed over to Dimo Reeves and as the man wraps it a couple of times around his fist.

‘Apologies, Mr Ackerman, but Mr Reeves has been a customer of mine since a long time, so his loyalty to my business calls for some privileges. I can show you some of our other really good products.’ Keith’s words barely reach me as he opens the cuffs around my ankles. Once I’m not grounded to the podium anymore I start to trash about, without caring how pointless it is; my arms are still tied, I’m on a leash, I’m in an auction room. I don’t care, I’m not going down without a fight, no matter how futile. I’ll dig my teeth into the podium so the fat fucker does not take me away from here. It’s not working out well though as he roughly yanks the short leash so that I’m pulled closer to his filthy body. ‘Stop fucking struggling. Now, Dimo, in terms of payment; gonna be cash or card?’ Keith’s voice is so disinterested. As if he isn’t just selling me to not only a sadist and a pervert, but a murderer too. Desperate, I look between his, Reeve’s, and Levi’s and Hanji’s faces, being slightly surprised that the last two are still standing there. But God, they’re not doing anything, not even as Keith turns to leave and Reeves pulls on my chain again.

‘Ah yeah, that. Was just gonna say, I wanna pay the first half by cash, then the rest by card.’

That’s when Keith stops dead in his tracks, having taken only two steps or so. He turns back to Reeves with a confused and somewhat offended expression. ‘What do you mean _first_ half? What do you mean _the rest_?’

‘Y’know Keith, just some trouble with my own budget these days. It’s not going to be a problem though, right?’

‘Dimo, come on, you know I don’t-’

‘I can pay the full amount right now, by cash.’ Mr Ackerman’s voice is so close again; I whip my head back, and there he is; just standing behind me, his jaw set and his lips in a thin line. He extends his hand once more, this time in Reeve’s direction, to which the man scoffs.

‘Keith, you’ve known me for years!’ I see him turn red, now realising he might not be bringing a fucktoy home to abuse tonight.

‘Yeah, but Reeves, you know I never do instalments.’ Keith’s voice still sounds conflicted; he’s so determined to fuck me over but at the same time he wants to make sure he doesn’t lose a single yen. Finally, he sighs. ‘I’m just a businessman, Dimo. You have to understand. Hand over the leash.’

My head is spinning. God, could this be really happening? Am I saved from this man?

‘Fuck no! I claimed him first! This short fucker won’t even find his way to Eren’s fuckin’ hole!’

‘Dimo, I’m not selling him to you. Choose a different slave if you want, one that you can afford now, or come back when you have enough money. Hand over the leash.’

I can see the vile man shaking from anger, his face resembling a moist beetroot from all the spitting he’s done while shouting. Just fucking die of a heart attack right here, you absolute _demon_!

And then, it finally happens. He unwinds the chain from around his wrist and slams it roughly into Mr Ackerman’s open palm. ‘Fine. FINE! Enjoy fucking him with your white cane, you pathetic invalid!’ He spits venom, then storms away.

I’m shaking with the weight of what just happened, as well as the disgusting words thrown at the man who was now to become my owner. My Master… I swallow a lump in my throat at the thought, not sure of the exact reason why it was there.

Keith sighs. ‘Alright Mr Ackerman, let’s go and finalise the payment.’

From where I kneel I see Hanji touching my owner’s elbow, leading him beside Keith. He doesn’t pull at my leash; I don’t give him a reason. I immediately follow, struggling to move forward awkwardly on my knees only.

‘Eren. Stand up and walk like a normal person.’ Mr Ackerman speaks without turning his head back towards me.

Feeling stupid I stand up on wobbly legs, half-numb from disuse and the strange position I’ve been in. I keep my head down though and watching my feet so that I don’t trip; it feels like my master will just _know_ whether I’m being disrespectful or not, even if he can’t see it.

We walk into the room I noticed earlier, and my guesswork was right. It is a tiny room, furnished only with a counter with some papers on top of it, a cup with pens, and an actual check-out machine, similar to what is in the main room. We stand at one side of the counter as Levi makes the payment and signs some papers. I don’t really follow. I’m too overwhelmed.

Despite the fact that my master told me to stand up, I am just simply incapable of it anymore. I sink to my knees at his feet, wanting nothing else than to rest my head against his leg and gauge out whether he’ll still seem as gentle, even if he has me now. But I don’t know if I’m allowed, don’t know how he would react. So I don’t.

Just as I’m about to zone out from the minimal conversation between the two men, my master’s hand finds its way to my hair again, gently pulling my head towards his thigh, letting it rest there. Immediately, my chest tightens, my stomach twists so that I feel it in my whole body, and tears fill my eyes; it takes inhumane strength of some unknown source to keep them from spilling.

Despite feeling like I’m about to have a stroke, there’s the smallest ray of hope in my mind. I hope that maybe, just maybe, no matter how he uses me, perhaps things will take a smallest turn for the better, compared to what I endured here. This is what I want to believe will happen as long as this gentle hand caresses my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST and FEELS™ ;__;  
> Oh man that was intense to write. I went through it so many times in my head.  
> Reeves is a disgusting filth for saying all these things, I know.
> 
> Most definitely my last update this year, so Happy New Year everyone! And thank you for all of you reading and leaving feedback, I'm so so glad there are people who are enjoying this ;u;


	5. The Analysed

By the time we leave that horrible place the sun is almost all the way behind the buildings casting an auburn glow on the streets of Trost as a chilly breeze ruffles our hair. It may be late summer still, but the evenings already bring a taste of approaching autumn. As we make our way to the carpark behind the building I glance sideways at my friend, with one hand swaying his cane from side to side in front of him and in the other, holding the chain of the boy’s collar. Oh, this fascinating, poor boy.

My gut twists as I watch him walk barefoot and naked behind Levi obediently, his arms wrapped around himself – after we insisted he should be untied before leaving – in a pathetic attempt to keep himself warm. I observe how he keeps his head hung low, his sad and scared eyes glued to the ground. The images of the poor child tied up and chained down; insulted, humiliated and abused; and so very terrified; they swarm in my mind. My forehead starts to ache as my frown deepens.

I know thinking of Eren as a child is an insult; at the age of 17 it would only be fitting to call him a young man. Yet it’s difficult to see him as such; broken, malnourished, and curled up on himself in terror, even when walking. He gives off such an aura of fear and submission that it makes him seem so much smaller than my unusually short friend walking in front of him. Eren is a boy who’s been deprived of a normal adolescence and perhaps childhood, and it’s utterly heart-breaking to see someone hurt this way. Yet, he quickly struck me as someone with a strong personality, as ridiculous as it may seem, given the boy’s current condition. But there is just some kind of spark, some flame in his eyes that diminished in the harsh storm around, but did not fully go out.

I’m torn out of my musings once we reach the car. Opening it, I mean to open the door for Levi in the back behind the driver’s seat but he swats my hand away. I smile inwardly; _oh, you proud shortie_. And so, he opens the door himself and gets inside while letting go of Eren’s leash. I’m not surprised to see him make no attempt to escape but the movement does make him look up from the ground slightly. It is indeed bad timing as I’m just opening the trunk; the boy’s eyes widen in a way which would be almost comical under different circumstances. His face is an open book and right now the only words which are there are ‘ _Oh God they’re going to dump me in the trunk!_ ’

To ease his anxiety, I quickly pull out the blanket I keep in my car and pass it to him which he takes with hesitation and timid hands. ‘Here, wrap it around yourself and sit in the other back seat. Mind the chain, yeah?’

He mumbles something in reply which might have been a ‘thank you’ and hurries to do as he’s told. Once I see that he’s seated and the chain isn’t hanging out of the car I get in my driver’s seat, locking the doors from the inside. Just to be sure. ‘Eren, don’t forget to put your seatbelt on.’

Hearing an almost immediate ‘click’, I look into the rear-view mirror to see a mess of blue blanket, long thin limbs, and chestnut hair, crossed in the middle with the seatbelt like a Christmas ham with a string. I giggle silently to myself; ah, at least he’s warmer now.

 

Surely enough, we get stuck in traffic. Even at this time in the evening Trost is almost as busy as during rush hours. Impatient honking from everyone on the road as well as some cursing from me as few fuckers cut in ensue. Which doesn’t really help the slight tension in the car. Slight, as I’m sure Levi’s capable of dissociating himself and letting his mind go pleasantly blank. Eren on the other hand is visibly sitting on needles, jumping up at every honk and whimpering at each abrupt stop. Poor child. I kind of wish Levi would say something. I entertain the idea of doing it myself, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to discharge the tension in that way; it is Levi who’s Eren’s master now, so it is only him who’s able to ease his fears.

Waiting at one of the red lights, I make out a rustling sound behind me followed by Levi’s voice. ‘Lean towards me for a second, Eren.’

Something tells me that the right thing to do would be to give the two some sort of privacy, but my curiosity wouldn’t have any of that; I constantly keep glancing into the mirror to watch the exchange happening in the seats behind me. To make sure that neither of them hurts the other, of course. That’s the main reason, naturally.

Initially, I can only see the slave’s fearful eyes, but once I shift slightly in my seat I can actually see what’s going on. I watch Levi reach out to the boy’s neck, feel for the lock of the collar and open it using the small key given by that disgusting brothel owner. He takes it off and I hear it rattle as it drops somewhere – _thanks_ , Levi – and then puts the other collar on him, the one that I designed myself, slipping a finger underneath once it’s fastened to ensure it’s not too tight. Good, I’m glad he’s using it; I’ll sleep better knowing the boy’s wearing it. Levi’s letting a stranger into his house after all. I’ll have to explain to Eren how it works.

The light turns green and my eyes return to the road; when I glance back at the pair on the next red light I see them sitting back in their seats as previously; Eren looks just as nervous and Levi is still wearing his favourite shade of indifference with a touch of blankness and bored highlights on his face, what’s new. The journey continues to pass slowly and silently until I finally pull into the parking lot of the apartment block estate.

‘Alright, we’re here.’ I announce more to Eren than Levi. I see the boy shrink into himself under the blankets even further but obediently undo his seatbelt. We get out of the car and I put my arm on the boy’s shoulder as he gathers the blanket and holds it tightly so he won’t trip over it. ‘Lead the way, Levi, I’ve got him.’

So Levi does, unfolding his cane and walking in the front as I gently lead the boy whose barefoot steps make soft sounds on the concrete. I can feel the anxiety radiating off him as Levi enters the key code to the main door, to the point where I start wondering how much more tense can he become until he physically shatters. Naturally, it doesn’t ease off as we walk through the door and to the first floor; by the time we’re standing in front of Levi’s door he’s visibly shaking with his teeth chattering quietly and hands struggling to keep hold of the large blanket, meanwhile my friend fumbles with the keys for a while, extending Eren’s suffering by additional few torturous seconds.

When he finally opens the door, Levi walks in without switching on the light – he always forgets – so I do that myself, mainly so that the boy won’t trip over in his new surroundings. Personally, I know Levi’s apartment so well I’d be able to navigate it with my eyes closed.

‘Well then, brat. Welcome to your new home, I guess.’ The man’s voice is monotonous as he puts his cane on the table and speaks with his back to us. ‘This is the kitchen, as you can see. There’s my room’, he points to the closed door on his left. ‘There’s your room’, he points to an open door further up. ‘There are some clothes in the wardrobe which might fit you for now. That’s the living room, there.’ He extends his hand in front of himself. ‘You can watch TV there or whatever once your chores are done. And that’s the bathroom.’ Finally, Levi points to a door opposite Eren’s room. ‘I’ve got one with my room so this one will be mainly for you I guess.’ A few moments of silence pass. With the corner of my eye I glance over at the boy whose eyes are as wide as saucers. He doesn’t seem to be breathing. ‘Well. That’s all. Hanji will tell you the rest, and we’ll discuss more tomorrow. I’m turning in for the night.’ Without any further words he walks away to his room closing the door behind himself.

I sigh. Thanks for making it awkward. ‘Sorry, Eren. As you can see, Levi isn’t the king of social graces, but he’s a good person.’ I try to laugh to somewhat lift up the mood. ‘He just gets moody when he’s tired.’ Better not tell him just yet that Levi has this indifferent-seeming attitude most of the time. I open the fridge, looking behind my shoulder to the boy. ‘Would you like to have something to eat, Eren?’

If it wasn’t so tragic I would have laughed; he looked like a deer in headlights. ‘U-um…’

Perhaps this is all a bit too much for him. I take mercy on him and make the decision for him. ‘Hm, let’s see, what do we have in here… Have a seat by the table, I’ll find something.’ I think out loud as I look through Levi’s mostly empty refrigerator. I’ll have to drag the man out for grocery shopping soon; not that he’d ever ask for it himself. Just before I set on cooking the boy some suspicious looking carrots, I spot a pot of blueberry yoghurt behind a vegetable bag. Fishing it out, checking the best before date, and taking a teaspoon out of the drawer, I turn around back to the table. ‘Here, Eren. This sh-’

What?

Where the hell is he-?!

As I dart to search for him I trip and almost fall over a now familiar ball of blanket which looks up at me with terrified eyes. ‘E- What? Eren, why are you sitting on the floor?!’ I ask definitely too loudly. As I watch the boy struggle for an answer, my heart breaks and my entire being aches from the shreds. Did these people make him eat from the floor like a dog? Is that the treatment he expects here too? I want to curse but instead I try to smoothen out my expression to not stress him further. ‘Hey, Eren, why don’t you sit on the chair, hm? It’s cold on the floor.’ Smiling softly, I help him stand up as he desperately clutches the blanket. I put the opened yoghurt pot and the spoon in front of him. ‘Eat up, you must be hungry.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.’ He quietly says, eyes down, as he picks up the spoon and slowly starts eating.

I take a seat at the table across from him. ‘Eren, like Levi said, I need to explain some things to you. So listen carefully, okay? The collar that you’re wearing; I designed it myself, and it has a microchip and a sensor under the leather. Levi can activate or deactivate it using that keypad over there.’ I point to a small white box on the wall by the main door. ‘There is a different code for activating and deactivating. Only Levi himself knows the deactivation code. Once he does, you’ll be able to go outside. If he doesn’t and you try to leave, an alarm will go off. Do you understand, Eren? You may not leave without Levi, or at least without him knowing.’ I get up from my seat and walk over to the keypad, entering the 5-digit number to switch on the sensor and go back to my chair. ‘Now, the collar is on. I know you might think this is a bit excessive, but Levi is my friend. And with his… condition, some precautions are necessary when he brings a stranger into his home.’

‘I understand, ma’am.’ He doesn’t lift his gaze from his food as he speaks.

‘I’m glad. I hope you won’t hold a grudge.’ Silence falls for a few moments, as I try to think what else needs to be explained to him. ‘I guess in terms of how you’ll be spending your days exactly, that will be up to Levi to discuss with you. Oh, but while we’re at it’ I get up as I suddenly remember and rummage through some of the drawers until I find a tourist map and put it in front of the boy on the table, ‘Here’s a short intro to the main locations in Trost. You should have a look at it soon.’ I sit back down, letting my head fall back and sighing. ‘Hmm, what else, what else… I guess, you can use the landline in the living room if, for some reason, you need to call me. I’m on speed dial; just press number 2 and the green button. I doubt you’ll need to, but just in case of an emergency, and if, say, Levi is not at home. Hmm, what else… Oh, I know.’ I chuckle to myself. ‘Make sure everything is always nice and tidy, Levi’s a bit of a clean freak.’

Lifting my head back up to face Eren I see him frowning and fidgeting nervously. He idly turns the spoon in the half-empty pot as he bites his lips and looks like he’s about to cry. I frown, trying to gauge out the reason for his current worry. ‘Eren, do you feel sick?’ I get an uncertain small head shake in response. ‘Are you full?’ Now I get a brief nod. ‘You don’t have to eat it all if you can’t anymore, it’s okay, don’t worry. If you want, I’ll put it back in the fridge and you can eat the rest when you’re hungry again?’ The hopeful and pleading look he gives me as he glances up grinds those heart shreds of mine into fine dust; was he that scared of rejecting food? Would that be rude, in his mind? Would he make himself eat until he was crying and close to throwing up if that would save him from a scolding? On the other hand, just how starved _is_ he, if he can’t finish just a standard portion of yoghurt?

Once I put the left overs back in the refrigerator, I lay a hand on Eren’s shoulder. ‘I’ll be going in a few minutes, so I’ll just say bye to Levi now.’ With that, I knock on the door of my friend’s room and walk in without waiting for a reply.

As usual, the lights are off. In the dark I see Levi sitting on the edge of his bed, towelling off his hair after a shower. ‘You alright, Levi?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Hm, just wanted to be sure. You know, we’ll need to go grocery shopping, there are polar winds blowing in your fridge, it’s so empty.’ I again try to joke, this time to loosen my friend up. He doesn’t reply. ‘Alright, I’ll be off then. Call me if you need anything, yeah?’ Once again, I only get silence in return. This makes me worry; it looks like the trip to the auction has took its toll on Levi’s psyche too, and I start to wonder how he’ll cope with suddenly having another person living with him. I just want him to be and feel safe and comfortable. ‘Goodnight then, Levi. Talk to you later.’ Hoping for _some_ kind of response I linger for a few more seconds but seeing that it’s pointless, I finally leave.

Eren’s sitting at the table, just as I left him. ‘Hey, Eren. I’ll be off. Go get some sleep, Levi will probably wake you up tomorrow.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ He stands up and turns to walk away, but I grab his shoulder before he does. Perhaps a bit too roughly.

‘One last thing, Eren. I want you to remember that I’m entrusting my best friend to you. I trust you to not hurt him. And by God, you better not dare betray this trust, do you understand me?’

That makes him finally look up but once he looks into my eyes, he quickly bows his head again. ‘Mistress, I- I’ll do my best to a-always serve Master Ackerman… to the best of m-my ability.’

My expression softens again and I ruffle his hair to comfort him; perhaps I was too scary. ‘I’m glad to hear that. Now, go get some rest, you must be exhausted.’

With a wave and a final ‘bye, Eren’ I leave the apartment, locking the door behind myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is relatively short, I guess, and not very eventful, but I wanted to upload something before my exams start. So yeah, I might not update until February now or end of January :'c Final exams in final year of uni are tough :'c   
> Thank you to everyone supporting me in writing this fic! You're all lovelies <3


	6. The Anxious

Despite having the most comfortable bed to sleep in since years and the most stressful, eventful and tiring day behind me, I still toss and turn, my mind unable to get any rest. Yet it doesn’t really surprise me. Countless thoughts are running through my head; I had hoped that these people would be kinder than your average sadistic pervert, but _this_ … This surpasses all and any hopes. My own soft bed? My own _room_? Permission to wear clothes, and to sit at the table, on a _chair_? I’m even allowed to read or watch TV when I’m done with my chores? This is madness. There has to be a catch, and I’m scared to find it. Maybe this man has some real extreme kinks, and maybe adventurous and painful sex will be the price. But the more I think about it all, the more anxious I get. Back in Keith’s brothel, the most times that I had the same customer was four, maybe five times. That’s it. They get bored of the same toy and they go on to torment someone else; to hear different cries and different words of begging. So how is it going to look like here? How long until he gets bored of me? And, perhaps more importantly, what will become of me once he does? I grit my teeth. Now is not the time to worry about this; I have more serious concerns at hand. What time do I need to get up? It’s the middle of the night, and since we always worked night shifts, my biological clock is totally messed up. What if I fall asleep and don’t wake up till late in the day? Does he expect me to be awake before him? But what time does he get up? All these thoughts make my head throb, and the anxiety finally tires me out to the point where I fall into deep but restless sleep.

My eyes shoot open as I hear some sort of noise coming from behind the door, in the kitchen. The next thing that my brain registers is the blinding sunlight flooding the room from the window behind my head. As cold sweat of dread breaks out on my skin I glance at the clock by the door; if it’s working correctly, it is just past 9am. Feeling panicky and still hearing sounds from the kitchen I basically run out of the warm, comfy bed over to the cupboards to get dressed. First thing I happen to grab is a white long-sleeved top which is a bit short on me but is loose enough on my starved body. Next thing I find is a pair of boxers and jeans. The boxers fit, the jeans are too small. A sense of claustrophobia creeps up my spine as I painstakingly wriggle out of the tight clothing, all the while worrying that Mr Ackerman will slam the door open and berate me for not being ready. In another cupboard I find a pair of grey sweatpants which miraculously fit. I walk over to the door hesitantly, trying to force my fear of the unknown down.

The delicious smell is the first thing that I register as I open the door; I feel as my eyes could roll back to the back of my skull involuntarily, and I barely stifle a moan of pleasure. I don’t remember anything smelling this good, ever.

 _Fuck_ , get a hold of yourself, Eren. He definitely heard you opening the door. Say _something_.

‘G…’ I swallow down a lump in my dry throat looking at my master’s back as he stands at the stove. ‘Good morning, master.’

‘Morning, kid.’ He doesn’t stir and keeps his back to me. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Oh, um, very good, thank you, master.’

‘Good.’

He doesn’t say anything else for a while and I start to fidget, pulling at the sleeves of my top, and my heart starts to race. How ridiculous; it’s not like something bad is happening.

‘Don’t stand there like that, sit down, I’ll have breakfast done in a minute.’

‘Yes, sir.’ It’s so much easier when you just have to follow orders.

The chair has a cushion, but I still feel like I’m sitting on needles and I keep biting my lip nervously. This isn’t entirely correct; I’m not supposed to be waiting for my master to make food, am I? Am I not supposed to be the one doing the chores? And will he scold me for not sitting on the floor? I mean, it was only his friend who allowed me to sit on the chair, maybe Mr Ackerman wanted it differently?

But then I don’t really care. I don’t care because there suddenly is a deliciously-smelling and warm plate of what looks like fried onion with bits of sausage. I stare in awe as steam blows in my face, the heavenly smell making me drool and my stomach grumble. My owner then sits in the same place where his friend sat last night and starts slowly chewing on his portion.

‘Eat it while it’s warm.’

I don’t need to be told twice; breaking out of my amazed stupor, I grab the fork and shovel as much of the food as I can into my mouth. Before I can stop it, a truly lewd-sounding moan escapes me. Like the whore that I am. But it just tastes so good; when was the last time I even ate meat? I almost forgot what it tastes like. But when the initial high fades and I glance sideways at my master and see his raised eyebrow, I can feel my face go up in flames. ‘I-I’m sorry, master. I-It’s just really good. Thank you for this, master.’

‘Well. Glad you like it. We’ll be going grocery shopping with Hanji in the afternoon, so you can pick some foods you like.’ He pauses for a moment as he chews. Going outside? Naturally, ‘outside’ since so long now has only meant one thing for me; escape. It’s an instinct. But doing that now would be absolutely ridiculous. I have that collar on me. I have no idea where I am, how to find my way around this city. They would find me in no time. And even if they didn’t; how would I survive? If the police would find me and get to the bottom of the matter, which would be me, being an escaped slave… I can’t even imagine the kind of trouble I’d be in. No. Escape is not an option. Especially here and now, where it’s easier to survive, being that man’s property. His voice draws me out of my musings. ‘How do the clothes fit?’

‘Um… Good, sir, um... Some are a bit small, others a bit large, but they’re good, and comfortable, sir.’

‘Good.’

We finish our meal without further discussions; the room only filled with the noise of our forks softly tapping against the ceramic plates. The food was out of this world and put me in such a great mood that it even dulls my nervousness when my master finally puts his fork down and starts speaking.

‘So. I suppose, before we get into details about your chores and all, we should probably get to know each other better first, at least a little bit.’ I clench my teeth. How I hate that intro. Just tell me that you want to bend me over the table and fuck me; no need to sugar-coat it. ‘Do you wanna start off and tell me something about yourself?’

The question throws me off guard, but only for a moment. It takes me even less to come up with an answer which will hopefully satisfy him. ‘My name is Eren Jäger, master, and I’m grateful to belong to you and to be here as your slave to serve you with obedience in any manner you desire; be it household maintenance duties, or being your bedroom whore, I’ll-’

‘Enough!’ I yelp as my master slams his fist on the table, making the forks rattle against empty plates. ‘I don’t want to hear such vile words again; do you understand?!’

His brows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched. As I tremble with terror, I try to figure out what I said wrong. Addressing him as my master? Check. Telling him how grateful I am to be here? Something strange I learned in Keith’s place was the fact that most of the clients simply loved being told that I’m happy and grateful to suck their cocks, no matter that it was a straight-up lie. So, check. Degrading myself? Check. Promising my obedience? Check. Then what was wrong? Why was he angry?

My shaking won’t stop even as the man unclenches his fist. He sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair. If I didn’t know better, I could swear I could hear him huff out a quiet ‘sorry’. ‘Uh, listen, Eren. That’s not what I meant at all, I- Hm. Alright, maybe it’ll be easier if I ask you questions instead. So, you’re seventeen, is that right?’

I swallow, hoping using his full name will somewhat soothe him. ‘Yes, master Ackerm-’

‘My name is Levi, brat.’

Fuck. _Fuck_ , I missed _again_. I feel so out of my depth, what on earth does this man want?! How am I supposed to behave?! ‘Yes, master Levi.’

‘Mm. How long have you been… working for that Shadis man?’

‘J-just about a year, sir; I’m not sure myself, but that’s what he said, sir.’ It feels strange, speaking to someone whose eyes are unfocused and whose head is not even turned in my direction. But he nods slightly to himself, looking like he’s taking the information in.

‘And can you tell me what happened before that?’

Okay, I can’t possibly mess this up, right? Just a bit of my history, there’s no reason for him to get mad. I clear my throat as quietly as I can before starting to speak. ‘Just after I turned sixteen, my… my mom died. Shortly after that, my father left, just disappeared one day. So the social services put us in an orphanage, my sister and I. But…’ I glance at the man momentarily, trying to gauge a possible reaction, to see if I said something wrong again. I see none, so I keep going. ‘Shiganshina is such a poor district; orphanages are always happy to have less mouths to feed. So Mikasa and I, we… we weren’t in that place for long. Keith showed up. He had some sort of legal document, some permission from the social services to take some kids into his brothel. It was decided on the basis that uneducated or only partially educated children won’t be of any use as adults, and on top of that, our families were so poor, so we’d never inherit money, even from distant relatives… And so legally, our status was changed to slaves, and… And Keith took some of us then.’ My stomach twists as the images flash in front of my eyes; those that haunt me so often in my dreams, those where they keep chasing me and where I always fall, where they surround me like a wild animal or a beast.

Yet another undignified whimper escapes me when I see my master’s displeased and frowning face again. I fucked up once more, didn’t I?

‘Eren, I’m sorry about your mother.’ His voice sounds strange, somewhat distant. I don’t know what to say in reply, so I opt to stay silent. ‘Your sister; is she working for Shadis too?’

‘No, sir. Mikasa was… She was taken somewhere else, I don’t know what happened to her… Keith does, though. Once a month, he’d let me talk to her on the phone for a short moment, once even on Skype, when I was good. That was one of his ways to keep me in check, to make me behave. Otherwise he wouldn’t let me talk to her.’ It feels weird, talking so much. My mouth is getting dry.

‘Hmm. So now you’ve lost the last contact you had with her.’

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. Yet, I feel like I should answer in some way, so I simply nod. Then slapping myself mentally for being so idiotic, I say a quick ‘Yes, sir’ which suddenly sounds completely unnecessary.

A few heavy moments of silence pass and I wonder if the conversation will be continued. At some stage master Levi’s voice fills the kitchen once more. ‘Thank you for telling me a bit about yourself, Eren. In return I’ll answer some questions of yours, if you have them?’ He tilts his head slightly in my direction.

And I freak out. Ask him something about himself? What would be good to ask and what would be in bad taste, or rude? I don’t want to anger him again by asking the wrong question, but neither do I want to piss him off by not asking him any questions; just after he gives me the privilege of doing so. That would be inappropriate, wouldn’t it? It would look like I’m rejecting his kindness. And maybe he’d think that I have no interest in him whatsoever, and I’m just a brat who’s so egoistic and only speaks about himself. ‘How old are you, sir?’ Well, that was dumb.

For the briefest moment I spot the smallest of smiles on his face; just a tiny quirk of the corner of his lips as a pleasant warmth brightens up his seemingly always stoic expression. Odd. Or maybe I’m seeing things from all the stress. ‘I’m twenty-eight.’

Again, I feel I should answer, acknowledge his words. The only thing I can manage is a quiet ‘Oh.’ ‘Okay’ seems like it would be too casual to say to your owner. I squeeze my eyes shut. God, this is so stressful; I just don’t want to make him angry… But still, thinking about it, his answer surprises me just slightly. In all honesty, I’d be convinced he was younger. But then again, maybe it’s the height. ‘Anything else?’

Shit. Shit. What else should I- ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters, sir?’ Okay, this was even worse than the first question probably.

‘No, just me.’ After a moment, he adds. ‘Hanji is just my friend. Speaking of whom; like I said, she’ll be coming over later today, but before that, I want to discuss your duties. So we’ll leave this conversation for later, that okay with you, brat?’

‘O-of course, sir.’ This man just keeps confusing me. Calling me a brat, an unpleasant nickname, but without any kind of malice in his voice.

‘Alright, good. So as you’ve probably figured it out, I mainly would like some assistance with daily tasks such as cooking, ironing, cleaning… _Especially_ cleaning. I pay a lot of attention to cleanliness in the house but as you can probably see, these days I’m not managing to keep it to as high of a standard as I would like.’ With the corner of my eye I glance around the kitchen at the perfectly spotless shiny surfaces and wonder just what in God’s name is this man talking about. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you clean the windows every day, but I want the place clean. I don’t want a single speck of dust under my fingers, alright brat?’

‘Yes, master Levi, I- I’ll keep your home spotless, sir!’ Dread sinks low in my stomach. How can I possibly clean something which is cleaner than any plate I’ve ever eaten from?!

‘Good. In terms of cooking… Have you ever cooked before?’

‘A bit, back at home… But I will learn to be a really good cook, sir!’

‘Right. Well, I guess we’ll sort this out as we go. Most of the days I have black tea in the morning with some small breakfast. I’d appreciate if you could make sure there’s at least lunch cooked every day too, but I don’t mind you making something that will last a couple of days. When it comes to you, you can eat with me, or whenever you want. Oh, that brings me to another thing.’ His voice suddenly goes stern, and I shiver. He turns his head fully towards me, and despite the fact that his eyes are unfocused and directed somewhere behind my head, I feel like I’m forbidden to look away. He looks so serious and scary… ‘I want you to gain some weight, brat. You’re so starved that any gust of wind will topple you over. So I want you to be eating regularly, three meals a day at least. I don’t want to ever hear your stomach rumbling, is that clear?’

‘Y… yes, sir.’ I swallow. My head is spinning from all the strange things I’m hearing.

‘Good. Now, final point that comes to mind; as you’ve noticed, I’m visually impaired. Most of the time I can’t see anything at all. So I want you to put things back where you found them; things like spices, cleaning agents; also refrain from moving things between shelves and cupboards as much as you can. I’d appreciate that.’

‘Naturally, of course, master Levi.’

‘Good, good.’ He turns his head away from me again. A strange feeling makes my insides twist. It’s strange because my master looks… vulnerable. I try to imagine how he must feel, and his friend’s words from the previous evening float back to me; he’s letting a stranger into his house and without his sight, he’s almost defenceless. My blood turns cold as I think that perhaps he realises that I could even kill him. It would be idiotic for me to do, same as running away but in theory, I could do that. ‘Okay, I’ve got work to do. Please familiarise yourself with the cleaning agents, they’re under the sink. There should be a green bottle with a yellow label I think. That one is good for the windows, doesn’t leave a smudge.’ I have no idea where my emotions are coming from, but each of his words fills me with more and more sadness. Perhaps it’s those incoherent images of a man who lost his sight and developed an OCD for cleanliness in his loneliness. I shake my head to clear my head; there is absolutely no reason to think he’s unhappy, or has OCD, or is lonely. Maybe he’s been blind all his life, and has made peace with his condition? _Literally, get yourself together, Eren_. I watch the man get up from his seat. ‘I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need anything. Have a shower and wash the dishes before Hanji comes. And eat something later on. There isn’t much in the fridge but you should find at least something small.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’

My master walks away from the table towards his room with his arm slightly raised and stretched in front of him. He walks into his room, closing the door behind himself, leaving me in the deafening silence all alone.

I exhale a shaky breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding in. Standing up myself now and taking a hold of my plate I realise how strongly I’m shaking. The fork clatters loudly, making me put the plate back down. My head is spinning and I need to lean on the table to support myself from falling. Before I know it, tears are spilling down my face and onto the table while I keep my sobs in. It’s the tension. It’s the tension, and the fear… I didn’t even know how on edge I was during the breakfast; constantly afraid that I’ll mess up and he’ll punish me. He hasn’t hurt me yet and I can’t predict when he will; and this is what scares me the most. I can’t read him and I’m terrified. But there is also anger; anger with myself. And disgust. God, I’m so weak. Such a cry-baby. Disgusting pathetic weakling. But that’s what they always wanted me to be, isn’t it? You showed strength, showed resistance, you talked back – you got punished. Got hit and punched and whipped and burned until you cried, until you had no dignity left and begged them for mercy. I’ve always been the type of person who acts first and thinks later. But they’ve changed me. I had to adapt to survive. Master Levi is the same, isn’t he? He might be much kinder than people who abused me at the brothel, but he is my owner, he _bought_ me. So of course he wants his property to be obedient, and lay low, don’t talk back and never resist. Yet, I’m just so disgusted…

My thoughts are getting tangled up and incoherent. I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore, why I hate myself for it, and whether I should. Taking a few deep breaths and closing my eyes for a while makes me feel marginally better. At least the shaking has somewhat stopped. Feeling slightly more calm I finally get on with doing the dishes. It’s a mindless task which lets me calm down fully, but I pay extra attention to make sure each plate is completely spotless, and that there’s no foam remaining in the sink when I’m done.

Deciding on having a shower next, I head to the bathroom. My hand hovers over the handle and I wonder whether I should lock the door. Naturally, this would be the ideal case. But if he’ll want to come in, and won’t be able to, and will get angry? I grit my teeth at my inability of doing _anything_ without overthinking, and I lock the goddamn door. Maybe if I finally piss him off and make him hit me, the tension and being on edge will go away. With that kind of morbid thoughts, I step into the shower.

The warm water is amazing that my eyes almost roll back into my skull. The strong minty smell of antibacterial body-wash fills the room. Well, it’s not ideal, but it has to be done… Squirting some of the gel on my hand I reach out behind myself and slowly start cleaning myself inside. The burning sensation of whatever antibacterial ingredients are in that gel on my abused and still torn skin makes me hiss. But I have to be ready in case he wants to use me, don’t I?

 

Soon I’m all washed up and clean, sitting on the floor by the sink, looking through the collection of cleaning agents, gels, sprays, and wipes that the man has in his cupboard. I occupy myself with trying out various things on kitchen surfaces; the cupboards, the oven; trying to find out which works best, leaves the strongest shine, and smells the nicest. I quickly lose track of time and it is only my owner’s voice that brings me back down to earth.

‘Oi, brat?’ His voice makes me spring back up to my feet so quickly I get dizzy from vertigo.

‘Yes, master?’ I say, probably a bit too loudly, standing up straight. Master Levi is standing in the door of his room.

‘Could you make me some tea and bring it to my room? No milk, two sugars.’

‘Yes, master, right away!’ He doesn’t say more as he disappears behind the door again.

I practically run over to the kettle, not wanting him to have to wait long. It doesn’t take me long to locate the jar with teabags. I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I wait for the water to boil, checking the teacup over every few seconds to make sure it’s perfectly clean. Soon I have a steaming cup of deliciously smelling beverage and I head over to master’s door. Raising my hand to knock I hesitate for a moment as a chill runs down my spine at the thought of entering my master’s private room. I roll my eyes at myself; he can’t really surprise me. If he’s got chains and whips hanging on the walls… Sure I’ve seen it all before. I knock twice.

‘Sir, I have your tea.’

His monotone reply comes muffled from behind the door. ‘Come in.’

And so I do.

And I realise how idiotic and silly I am. It’s just a normal room. Nothing out of the ordinary; a normal bed on the right, an armchair in the far right corner by the window, lots of shelves everywhere, each bursting at the seams with thick books. A door on the left, most likely leading to master Levi’s own bathroom, and even more shelves on the same side. And just a few steps, right in front of me by the window, is a heavy wooden desk covered with empty sheets of paper. No desk lamp. Naturally. There is a faint glow coming from a computer screen though. My master is sitting with his back to me at his desk, perfect posture, his back upright, his head raised and facing the window.

‘Are you just gonna stand there and stare? I’m really busy at the moment.’

‘S-sorry, sir!’ I quickly walk over and put the cup on the last free spot on the crowded but organised desk. Upon closer inspection, I note that the sheets are not actually empty; they’re all covered with minute dots. Of course, Braille. ‘C-can I do anything else for you, sir?’ I steal a glance at the keyboard which is also made for a blind person.

‘No… thanks, brat. That’s all.’ His voice is distant as he seems to be concentrating on whatever he’s reading now. I watch his slender fingers slowly caress the page for another second before turning away to leave. Just before I reach the door, he calls for me again. ‘Oi. Have you eaten?’

I frown. ‘Um. No, sir.’

‘Make sure you eat something before we leave with Hanji.’

A pleasant warmth spreads through my chest at my master’s words and a small smile forms on my lips; a strange sensation. ‘Yes, sir.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took ages to write (because of exams ^^') and not much even happened... Originally planned for this chapter to have more in it but it just turned out that what is already in it got lengthy enough. Anyway, I hope the next chapter will be up faster ^^ Thank you lots for reading!


	7. The Adventure

The remainder of the morning and early afternoon passes fairly calmly and uneventfully. Master asks me for another tea around noon, and I obediently drop all the cleaning I’m doing and prepare the beverage as he likes it; two sugars, no milk. Another important thing to know about my master. That second time I’m not as stressed and scared going into his room, but I still feel the need to almost walk on my toe tips and make myself as small as possible so that I don’t break anything, or, perhaps, so that I don’t contaminate the spotless, almost royal space, with the filth that is me. I can’t help but feel warm inside when master actually _thanks_ me for the tea; it’s a positive driving force, making me put even more effort into scrubbing the floor once I’m back in the kitchen.

Sometime in the early afternoon still, I freeze, kneeling on the floor, as I hear the lock of the main door being opened. Robbery? Is it Keith, coming to drag me back to his brothel? Is-

‘Heeey, Eren!’

Cheerful face and voice of miss Hanji makes me relax a bit. But not too much. I remember my manners and bow my head when she enters the kitchen. ‘Good afternoon, mistress Hanji.’

‘Hah, don’t be so formal with me; ‘mistress’ makes it sound like I’m some old, wrinkly royalty or whatnot!’ As usual by now in this household, I’m at a loss for correct words, so I stay silent. ‘Levi’s in his room, yeah?’

My head shoots up just when she puts her hand on the handle of master’s room. ‘Yes, miss Hanji…’ Is this okay to say? Master is busy, and she’s just going to march in like this? Doesn’t seem as if she’s intending on knocking either… Will I get in trouble for not telling her that he’s working on something and doesn’t want to be interrupted? Oh God.

Well. It’s too late now. She walks right in, as if she… Oh. Of course. How utterly _dumb_ of me. She _is_ his friend, after all. She doesn’t have to fear him, to bow to him. They’re on the same level. And that realisation makes my chest ache. No matter how much I try, how hard I scrub this goddamn floor, and how obedient of a dog and good of a fucktoy I’ll be, I will never, _ever_ , be their equal. I scoff at myself though. _Hold your fucking horses, Eren_. You’ve just gotten out of Keith’s torture den with the help of a seemingly sane man who’s now your master. You have a soft bed to sleep in and decent instead of slutty clothes for once. You’re even allowed to eat whenever you’re hungry. And now you’re whining that you can’t be friends with your master? _You ungrateful pile of shit_.

‘Ay, Eren? We’ll be leaving in a few minutes, so get ready okay?’ Miss Hanji sticks her head out of master’s room. Get ready? What does she mean, exactly? ‘Just wear something a bit warmer, it’s a tad windy outside.’ And then she disappears once more.

I pretty much trip over my own feet as I hurry to put all the cloths and reagent bottles back into the cupboard. Running back to my room, I let a smallest bit of excitement buzz under my skin. Going outside, I can’t believe it! For once, I won’t be running away, and I’ll be able to enjoy the fresh air, the view of the sky and the streets, and maybe even the presence of other people, strangers. I shouldn’t get hurt, right? Master wouldn’t allow it. No one likes when their property is damaged, right?

Basically crawling into the wardrobe, I manage to fish out some decent black jeans that end up fitting me relatively well; just a bit on the short side. They would probably fit master Levi. I shake my head, not wanting to spare any thought to the absolutely bizarre idea that my master would let me wear his clothes, even if he doesn’t want them anymore. Taking miss Hanji’s advice, I put on a loose black zip-up hoodie that I find under a stack of spare blankets in the wardrobe.

I give myself a quick overall glance in the thin mirror on one of the inner sides of the wardrobe door. If I zip myself up, I’m dressed all in black; even my socks are black. Do I look presentable? Will I not bring shame to master Levi? And… sure, black is a fitting colour for a slave, right? Dull, won’t attract attention.

‘Are you ready, Eren?’

Fuck, fuck, she’s back in the kitchen, master Levi is probably with her, ready to go, and now I dare make them… make _him_ wait. Somewhere between slipping on the rug and slamming the wardrobe door I pretty much fly out of my room and bow my head before my master and his friend. ‘I’m s-so s-sorry for taking so long.’ Goddammit. My voice shakes again, and it’s just disgusting and pathetic.

‘You need to calm down, brat.’ My master says, reaching his hand out towards me and I bring my shoulders almost right up to my ears in fear. But he ends up only ruffling my hair.

‘Yes, sir.’

He huffs in something like exasperation and his friend laughs. ‘Looks like a long learning process ahead.’ As usual, I don’t understand her, and so say nothing.

Instead, I just briefly look up, to discretely feast my eyes on my beautiful master, wearing a dark indigo sweater with an impeccable white shirt underneath, its collar contrasting against the darker fabric magnificently. He looks striking and respectable, even in such relatively simple attire. He looks like a god. We take the few steps towards the front door, where master bends down to tie his black dress shoes. There’s a brief impulse for me to kneel down and do it for him, but I get distracted by miss Hanji talking about the different stores we’ll visit, the things we will see on our bus ride. She wants us to take the bus instead of driving us there, so that I’ll know where I’m going, should I be going alone with master.  

‘And one final thing before we go, Eren.’ I quickly drop my gaze as miss Hanji pushes in the passcode for my collar on the little panel on the wall; I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to figure it out so I can run away. I see her reaching for something on the coat hanger and- it’s a… it’s a leash, which she passes to master who’s standing behind me. ‘Sorry.’ She grimaces.

Master Levi takes the leash placed in his open palm and brings it to the back of my neck, feeling for the collar with his other hand. I shiver briefly at his delicate touch on my skin. It’s so pleasant. ‘I know it’s shitty, brat. But that’s the idiotic law.’ He comments, clipping the leash to my collar.

‘I understand, master; dogs must be kept on a leash.’

‘ _Eren_!!’

_Fuck_ , I said something wrong again. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I-’

‘Stop, brat. Just stop.’ His heavy sigh makes the hairs on my neck stand up, despite the warmth of his breath. ‘Ready to go, got some shoes on?’

‘Sh… shoes?’ I haven’t considered that, expecting to have to go barefoot.

He sighs. He does that a lot, which probably isn’t a good sign. ‘Check if there’s a pair that will fit him?’

My master’s friend bends to search through a small cupboard in the corner to which he had pointed. Soon I’m handed a pair of worn-looking navy runners, but, to my terror… they don’t fit. They’re way too small, and there’s just no physical way I’ll manage to wear them. My head spins slightly in fear; almost like a disgusting, tangible creature wrapping around my spine, that just never leaves me alone. And in what sort of a trivial situation! I just don’t want him to lose his patience with me-

‘Too small?’

The way I gulp is so loud it sounds almost comical in my own ears. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Try those, they look bigger.’ Miss Hanji hands me another pair; this time, they’re simple slip-on black shoes. I take them from her, praying they’ll fit.

They don’t. Cold sweat beads up on my back, but there’s a little relief; this time I can actually squeeze my feet into them, but they’re still too small. Even standing still puts awful pressure on my toes.

‘Better, Eren?’ The fact that it is only miss Hanji who talks to me makes me anxious in a yet another way. Is master so completely and utterly done with my nonsense that he just leaves the nasty job of dealing with me to his friend?

‘Yes, miss Hanji, they’re good, thank you.’ I do all I can to keep the pain from showing on my face. ‘Thank you for letting me wear shoes, master.’

Without any response, we finally make our way outside.

 

Once out of the apartment block, my eyes are momentarily blinded with perfect natural light. I instinctively flinch, but then force my eyes back open against my instincts, as if it could all disappear in a moment. Of course, master’s flat is bright with large windows, but actually being outside and seeing the sun is so different. Being so used to the darkness, or to the yellow, artificial lighting in Keith’s brothel; seeing and feeling the sunlight on my face is an experience that’s just impossible to put into words.

It takes me a moment to realise we’re actually walking. We’re out in public. There are people here and there. And I’m being an obnoxious brat, staring wide-eyed at my surroundings and the sky. Feeling stupid, I drop my gaze, walking a bit closer to my master’s right side, slightly behind him. Miss Hanji walks beside him on his left. With his left hand he tips his white cane from side to side, and his right hand is in his trousers pocket, holding my leash.

‘Hey Eren, keep an eye out on what way we’re going, alright?’

‘Yes, ma’am!’

My head shoots back up immediately and I’m back to scanning every tree and crack in the footpath. On a larger scale I take in the actual look of the block estate. The last time I looked at those tall buildings from the outside it has been dark, cold, and scary, my naked and beaten body exposed for any stranger to see. Now, just about everything is different. My status is still that of a slave, I’m still worth much less than any citizen, and a collar still _adorns_ my neck; but this time I have the privilege of clothes, shoes, and a master who doesn’t hurt me; it’s an improvement in my situation that I couldn’t have dreamed of, and is enough to fill my chest with a warmth as bright as the autumn sun above.

As my master and his friend engage in some small conversation that I don’t really pay attention to, I take in the big grass field that we pass. In one spot, there’s a couple sitting down on a blanket, probably enjoying the last warm sunny spells of the year. A bit further away, closer to the coniferous trees, there are a few kids playing fetch with a beautiful golden retriever that seems larger than at least two of those kids. How I’d love to join them and ruffle the animal’s fur…

To prevent my step from faltering under the temptation, I look the other way. We pass a small simple horse statue and a few more apartment blocks until we finally reach the road. We walk on a footpath alongside it for a few more minutes until we reach a bus stop which is thankfully empty. A shiver goes through me as a particularly noisy car speeds past us; as if a group of men will jump out of it, chase me down a dark alley and bring me to Keith’s brothel again. Like a year ago.

That of course doesn’t happen, and we all sit down on the bench. While we wait, miss Hanji points out that I don’t have to keep my head down, and master asks me whether I’m warm enough. Even if I wasn’t, the fact that they don’t cease to acknowledge my presence would warm me up anyway.

Finally miss Hanji gets up, followed by my master, and so I rush to my feet too, seeing a bus in the distance. Number 22. When the massive vehicle stops in front of us and the doors open, I suddenly feel very, very sick.

People. It is full. Of people. Of _men_. There could very well be regular visitors of Keith’s brothel among them… Some of them brush past us as they get off the bus and I instinctively bring my fists to my chest and press myself closer into my owner’s side. ‘Master…’ I mewl pathetically in fear.

‘It’s okay, Eren. Just stay close to me.’ His low murmur in my direction doesn’t do too much to calm me, but it’s something.

When we enter the bus miss Hanji checks in the tickets; only two, interestingly; at the machine, while I stick so close to my master that I must be as annoying to him now as a piece of chewing gum stuck to his shoe, but I dismiss the thought for the moment.

While I’m busy being an overwhelmed piece of shit and a useless slave, miss Hanji leads us to some free seats just as the bus starts to slowly move again. Master sits by a window and I warily take a seat beside him. Miss Zoë sits in a row behind us. ‘We’re going for 19 stops, getting off at ‘Grand Wall Plaza’. Look at the screen at the front of the bus, see there? It displays the next stop. To get off, you have to press the red button on the handrail before the bus reaches the stop.’ She explains, leaning forward so that I’ll hear properly.

‘Yes, ma’am. I understand.’

As the journey continues I find myself relaxing the tiniest bit in the proximity of my master and sitting down definitely does wonders for my aching feet in the tight shoes. But, there is still the anxiety of being surrounded by people, feeling their eyes on me, judging me. Whether they _actually_ do or whether it’s just something my overthinking mind comes up with, I do not know, as I don’t have the courage to look up. ‘M… Master?’ I whisper, leaning closer to the man. He lets out a quiet ‘hmm?’ which I take as an encouragement to keep going. ‘Should I, maybe, um, I… Should I sit on… on the floor instead? Dogs should probab-’

‘Wha- Ere- What are you on about?’ He whispers angrily. _I_ made him angry, _again_. I just… just wanted the eyes to stop judging me. ‘Stop comparing yourself to a dog, what sort of bullshit is this?!’ He’s not whispering anymore, but his voice is low and quiet so that I doubt even miss Hanji would hear him properly. ‘And sitting on this filthy floor… Why would you even think about it.’ After a small pause, he adds, ‘Look out the window instead. It’s a really not bad view.’ Before I fully register the meaning of his words and look up, master’s face is already turned away towards the window, hiding his expression from me.

 

When we get off the bus, my heart skips a beat or ten again. The view in front of me is simply out of this world. There is so much to see that I don’t know where to look first. Do I first appreciate the old fashioned, wide stone footpath, extending in front of us for what seems like forever? But then I’m drawn to the narrow but tall stone houses, clustered along the left-hand side of the path. There are standing lanterns, as well as some colourful light decorations, switched on despite it being still bright outside, and they hang casually between some windows. Here and there are some small shops between the houses, and I also spot a small stand where an elderly man dressed in white spins pastel-coloured cotton candy. But, I can’t focus too much on all of this, as the massive shining, all glass and steel building in the distance on the right of the stone path catches my attention. It’s enormous, more modern-looking than the buildings I was just admiring, but somehow it fits well enough. Perhaps it’s the trees and plants in wooden crates decorating the car park that make it so. Ah… It must be the shopping centre. And people… There are people, everywhere. So many…

‘A bit overwhelming seeing it for the first time, eh, Eren?’ The familiar female voice brings me back down to earth.

‘Oh, um… um… yes, it’s… It’s very busy.’

‘Move your asses, you two.’ Master Levi grunts. ‘I want to have this shit done and over with.’ I frown at his sudden ill mood.

Miss Hanji laughs. ‘You can see how much Levi likes shopping!’

‘Tch.’

 

It was just a few minutes’ walk to the fancy building but by the time we’re at the door, my feet are in bits. I can feel at least two blisters have formed on both and each step makes it harder to hide the pain from my face. The moment the glass doors slide open though, I feel infinitely worse. Loud conversations, background music from stores, and the heat; they all slap me in the face at once, making me wince and cower into my owner’s side like at the bus stop. And, like back there, my kind master is there to comfort me. ‘They won’ hurt you, brat. Stay close to me.’

And so I do.

We head over to a supermarket, and of course, it’s even more crowded that I could have ever expected. Masses upon masses of people. I’ve never seen such crowds in Shiganshina, even at the weekly market, which always attracted pretty much everyone from the town and the outskirts. ‘Eren, grab a trolley there?’ I hear miss Hanji say as she points over to a row of trolleys just by the entrance.

‘Yes, ma’am!’

We stroll leisurely through the aisles as I lead the trolley, throwing in whatever either of my superiors indicates. Sometimes they even ask me whether I’d like to pick something out myself, whether I want something particular. I would never dare, but it still endlessly warms my heart that they show me such never-ending kindness. By the time we’re in the queue to the checkout, we have some basic items in the trolley, such as bread, pasta, some fresh vegetables and fruit, box of crackers, eggs, some tinned fish, jar of curry sauce, and even a small bag of tiny round biscuits. My mouth waters at the sight. However, apparently we’re missing one more thing, which is coconut oil. Master says that the one in this supermarket is ‘shit’, and that he only gets it from this one store _on the first floor_. Upon hearing that, my knees go weak. I hoped that after walking around the entire supermarket in those tight shoes my torment would be close to its end, and we’d be on our way home. False hope.

And of course, it was a false hope also to think that by some miracle I could endure some more of this torture. We leave the shop with two bags, one carried by miss Hanji and one by me, and make our way towards the stairs. That’s when it happens. That’s when the blisters burst; I feel wetness stick to my feet, and the tough material scraping against the now raw, exposed skin. I cry out in pain, and my façade breaks.

‘Oi, brat, what is it?’

‘Eren, what’s wrong?’

I’m mortified. My chest constricts in terror and breathing becomes hard instantly. My hands turn cold even though my body burns with a stressed kind of fear. I can’t move because of both the pain and the fear. I made a scene and now I can’t take it back. Everyone’s staring at us for sure, but I can’t confirm it as I’m staring at the floor and my shaking wringing hands, all blurry from tears I’m trying to hold back. On top of it all, I’m showing disrespect for not answering their questions. I hear myself gasp for air as panic tries to pull me under. When I see miss Hanji stand in front of me and hear her repeating her question I know I’m done for. Breaking out into sobs I bring my hands to my face, fearing being hit. It would only make sense for her, or my master, to punish me but nonetheless I beg them not to, crying out a string of ‘I’m sorry’s. I’m not entirely sure if I’m only saying it in my head or actually voicing it; I don’t really know what’s going on anymore in general. My eyes are open, but I can’t really make the connection as to what is actually in front of them. I have no idea what my body is doing; I can only feel the overwhelming tension of clenched muscles that makes me shake. I don’t know what’s going on; I only know that I want it to end, or I might just die otherwise.

Without an idea about how much time had passed, I find myself gasping for air, finally being able to see and hear properly, but I’m exhausted, as if I’ve just been fighting for my life with a violent storm that finally, in a moment of fleeting mercy, threw my tired body ashore. As the senses are slowly coming back to me, I’m capable of assessing the situation; the world is still there. I’m sitting down on a wooden bench near the stairs in the shopping centre where I stood just before consciousness left me. I blink a few times and take some deep breaths.

‘Are you coming back to us, Eren?’ I hear a concerned voice. Frowning, it takes me a moment to realise that it’s miss Hanji who, for some reason, is squatting in front of me. I don’t want to leave her question unanswered but I have no idea what to say, my mind is blank. The kind woman shushes at me quietly, rubbing at my calf, seeing how pathetic my mumbled attempts for an answer are. ‘It’s okay. Everything is okay now.’

I hear the familiar tapping against all the noises in the building, and it is then that my master’s approaching form comes into my view. He’s carrying a small paper bag with a green logo on it, passes it to Hanji, then takes a seat beside me. His expression is unreadable. I want to get closer to him, to find comfort in him. I want him to _hold_ me, or I’ll fall apart. But I’m scared he’d only push me away if I tried; he must be so angry with me… But then his hand reaches for my head to ruffle my hair, and I don’t hold back anymore, slamming my body into his, making myself as small as possible. I hear a surprised ‘oof’ above me, but master does not push me away. ‘You’re alright. You’re safe.’

I get distracted by the pain as one of my shoes is being pulled off. Alarmed, I glance at my master’s friend as she now studies my bruised and blistered mess of a left foot. ‘This looks terrible. Absolutely no idea how you managed to walk so far in those shoes. I’m gonna patch it up now-’ She takes a roll of bandages and an antiseptic out of the white bag that master brought her ‘-and then we’ll go buy you new shoes.’

That puts me on the edge; I made a scene and now they’ll spend money on me? No, it’s just, no-

But before I can protest, master wraps his arm around my back, pulling me back into his chest. My gratitude knows no end, but I can still feel anger coming off of him in waves. I want to clear the air; I need to apologize. ‘Master, I’m… sorry for causing a scene and… and being a burden. But. But please, forgive me, sir.’ I curl in on myself even more.

‘Eren. I’m not angry with _you_ , you hear? I’m angry with those animals that hurt you to the stage where you believe you should split your feet open rather than ask for new shoes.’

His words are too complex, I’m exhausted, and miss Hanji’s actions make the pain go away; it all brings me to a state where I’m only half-awake. But master’s hand is gently rubbing my back, so everything must be okay.

That floating state continues as miss Hanji goes upstairs to buy whatever else that master required, while he and I walk to the nearest shoe shop. Master instructs me to walk us over to an isle with men’s shoes; once there, it’s his turn to have a seat now, as he puts a lot of slack on my leash, telling me to choose a pair which I like but to make sure I try them on. I don’t really care what shoes I’ll be wearing; right now I just want to get back to master’s home, where I’m safe. Pulling off a pair of black sneakers with the lowest possible price tag, I sit down beside master and try them on. Naturally my feet ache a bit at the contact, but the shoes seem to have the right size.

‘These… these ones fit, sir.’

‘Good. Take them off for a minute and bring me to the checkout.’

I do as I’m told, leading my owner by gently holding his elbow. We put the shoes on the counter, and I’m not bothered in the slightest by the look of disgust I get from the elderly cashier. What irks me is her heavy annoyed sigh when master hands her his credit card and she snaps the card from him, puts it in the EMV terminal herself and hands it over to him. As if that was her life’s worst inconvenience. ‘You should be nicer to your customers.’ The words are out before I can stop them, just as master is finished typing his PIN. Even the cashier’s offended _Excuse me?!_ doesn't stop me. It’s probably the exhaustion. ‘You were very rude. It’s not difficult to put a card in the terminal for a customer. You should apologize.’

Her incredulous expression is actually quite amusing. She collects herself quickly enough, printing out the receipt as my owner takes his card out. She scoffs, sneering. ‘Look at what a loyal dog you have, dear sir.’ As an afterthought, she adds in a clearly annoyed tone ‘Take him outside. No animals allowed in the store.’ With that, she pushes the shoes towards me and I catch them just before they fall off the edge.

Once outside the shop, master gives me a moment to sit down and put on the new purchase.

‘What was that about?’ He asks, genuinely curious.

‘She was very rude.’ That’s the only answer I can come up at the moment. ‘Oh. But, master… thank you very much for the shoes. Thank you for taking care of me.’ I add, my voice quiet and slow.

His only reply is a nod.

We wait for miss Hanji to return downstairs. Thankfully, we head outside and towards the bus stop. I tune out most of the world during the wait, and during the bus trip. I tune it out, until master and I are at home where it’s quiet and safe. _I’m_ safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years...  
> Thanks for all the support and the encouragement to finish this chapter, it would probably take me another two decades if it wasn't for you guys ^^' I have the next two chapters planned out in detail. In the next one I plan to deal a bit with the elephant in the room, aka how Eren and Levi see each other, particularly with Eren's constant fear and anxiety. Eternal anguish, here I come ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ (Writing that panic attack scene was so draining though, I feel like I lost 2 years of my life lmao)


	8. The Autumn Heat

A couple of days pass. The only indication of such are my healing feet and tearing, though. That’s it; that’s the only thing that changes; the diminishing pain. The rest is mind-numbing monotony. Now, I wouldn’t have minded that; despite not being too happily on board with spending the rest of my life scrubbing floors and wiping dust off shelves, I do appreciate, to say the least, the lack of torture, abuse, and other forms of inhumane treatment I’m so used to. Master Levi is calm and kind and doesn’t hurt me; it’d be a gravely, ungrateful lie to say that I’m not happy to serve him.

But that’s the thing. _Serving_ him. He’s not taking what is now rightfully and legally his; what he paid for. This isn’t what I expected. He came to a brothel, bought one of the whores from there, and now he’s not using it. I knew from the very beginning that master Levi is different from others; when he bought me, I had a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt me _as much_ as others did. That’s why I was so desperate to become his, after all. Soon, I realised that being his bedroom servant would not be the only thing I’d be doing; being his guide dog and household servant would be on the list as well. The thought made me subconsciously happy; happy that my life would consist of something more than rolling on my back and spreading my legs like a shameless slut I was taught to be. And yet… I must be here for over a week now and the only things I’ve been doing is cleaning and cooking, while master himself has made no move to touch me. I clean myself _thoroughly_ , morning and evening, but he just won’t touch me. The fear and tension of _why_ is what’s driving me insane. 

Does he not like me? He can’t know exactly how I look like; just the shape of my face, or my protruding ribs. Is that what he doesn’t like? He did mention it before. Or is it my behaviour? This thought concerns me; I’m trying to be the best I can, obeying him to the best of my ability, addressing him respectfully; I don’t know how else I can improve. If he’d just give me a chance to show him how skilled and experienced my body is in pleasuring others, if he’s just let me satisfy him. But I don’t know what he wants; if he’d just tell me I’d do it without hesitation. I just want him to be pleased with me, to not hate me, and to take the edge off, to dissipate the tension I’m constantly feeling. Because what will happen if I won’t be able to make him happy? He’ll bring me back to Keith, throw me out on the street, or maybe simply kill me; technically it’s against the law, but who would chase him for putting down some stray dog, really.

As if that wasn’t bad enough… There’s something about my master himself when he’s around me that’s difficult to put into words. I’m tempted to say he’s giving me the ‘cold shoulder’, but that’s not exactly it; he is always his kind, considerate self, asking me whether I ate and still, bizarrely, thanking me whenever I bring him tea. But it feels like he’s keeping me at a distance, like there’s a barrier between us. He doesn’t smile at me. I noticed that master isn’t really a person who smiles a lot, or shows much emotion through his facial expressions at all; but I see him how he is with miss Hanji. He talks with her more freely, he might even give a brief smile every now and again. He looks _comfortable_. Which means that around _me_ , he’s _uncomfortable_.

The thought makes me curl in on myself as I stand at the counter cutting up tomatoes for soup.

Why is that so, though? What have I done? This just doesn’t make sense at all. He’s the master here; he’s in control. He shouldn’t be uncomfortable, shouldn’t be on edge around his slave; just how insane is that?! I don’t know how, but I must fix this. Neither do I know whether master is even bothered by this heavy air that hangs between us both, nor whether he’s even aware of it; but I certainly am. I know that some time soon at a critical stage the tension will snap; what I don’t know is which way it will go; will it make things better or worse?

 

‘Goddammit… Eren, can you open the windows in the living room?’ I hear my master say as he walks into the kitchen at 8 am for his breakfast, like each morning. ‘So hot and stuffy, makes shit boil in your bowels.’ He adds more to himself in a grumpy murmur but I manage to catch it, still not fully used to this sophisticated, clean man making weird poop jokes.

‘Yes, sir!’ I answer, running over to the room and dutifully letting fresh air in. Master is right; it seems like the last heatwave of the year decided to hit with full force. I’ve been sweating by just standing and preparing breakfast. When I’m back in the kitchen, master Levi is sitting at his usual spot at the table, blowing off steam from the cup of black tea I make for him every morning. ‘Master, I made sushi for breakfast, is- Is that okay?’ Wanting to impress him at least a bit, I went in search of any kind of cooking books around the flat, trying to suss out what kind of food master Levi likes. After finding two on a shelf in the living room, filled with recipes for typical Asian and mainly fish-based dishes, I decided to give sushi a try.

Master Levi hums into his teacup in response, leaving me none the wiser in terms of his opinion about my choice of breakfast food. I hurry to cut up the roll and put the pieces on a plate and set it, along with chopsticks and a tiny bowl of soy sauce, in front of master. ‘Th- the bowl to your left, sir, there’s… it has soy sauce in it.’ I say timidly, hating the fact that I must make an obvious reference to master’s disability. ‘Of course, if you don’t like it sir, I’ll make something else right away.’

‘Mm. Thank you, Eren.’ He says, setting his cup down and picking up the chopsticks instead.

‘Yes, sir.’ My voice is quiet as I bow. I never know what I’m supposed to say when he thanks me; the usual response to this phrase is something along the lines of _you’re welcome_ or _no bother_ ; but that makes it sound as if I am expecting to be thanked. And I most certainly am not. I’m not doing master a favour; it’s a slave’s _responsibility_ to serve. I frown, realising I’m overthinking again.

‘You ate yet, brat?’ He asks while gently dabbing with the chopsticks around the plate, looking like he’s getting a feel for where the sushi pieces are. My chest constricts briefly but painfully, for some reason.

‘No, sir.’

‘Have you got any more of this?’

‘Yes, master, there’s another full roll.’

‘Mm. Sit down and eat with me then.’ He says, then finally pops in a small piece of the rice into his mouth. I kind of want to watch his face for any kind of indication whether the food is to his liking or not, but I do as I’m told; cut up the roll, fetch myself another pair of chopsticks, and sit on the adjacent side of the table, to his right. ‘Not bad. Not bad at all.’ I glance up at him from my plate, chest full of hope. ‘Never managed to make decent sushi myself. You’re a good cook, brat.’

For a moment, I don’t know what to say and I probably look like a fish out of water with the way I try to form words that won’t come out. This is the first time since forever that I’ve received a compliment about something I’ve done, a compliment different from someone telling me I’m a good fuck or that I can give head well. ‘Si-! I- sir! Thank you, I’m- I, master I’m so glad you like it…’ I trail off the last words, realising how stupid I sound and feeling my face heat up a bit. Master doesn’t say anything, he just eats in silence, and I join him in doing so as I’ve been told.

He finally speaks once he’s done and puts his chopsticks down. ‘Will you check the weather forecast later on the TV? I sure do hope this goddamn heat wave won’t last long.’

‘Of course, sir.’ I answer obediently, picking up the plates, chopsticks and bowl. ‘Would you like anything else, master?’

‘No… Hey Eren, don’t do any strenuous work today, give it a rest for now. The last thing anyone would want to be doing in this weather is cleaning.’ My eyes widen as I stare at my master in surprise.

‘T-thank you, sir, for being so considerate and kind, sir-’

‘Mm.’ He makes this quiet, noncommittal hum again as he gets up. ‘I’ll be working in my room, if you need anything.’ And with that, he leaves.

 

Without having too much to do, time passes slowly. I busy myself with some cooking which turns out to be pointless, because master says he won’t eat lunch today. Despite knowing that the reason lies in the weather conditions that he obviously hates so much, I still feel just a bit dejected at him turning down the meal I’ve prepared. Trying to not let it get to me, I watch the weather forecast when it’s on (still marvelling at the coloured TV; back at home there were probably just two, three households that owned a black-and-white TV), letting master know that the temperatures are supposed drop tomorrow in the afternoon. He cheers me up slightly when he asks for a glass of cold water with a lemon slice. I do it immediately, happy to have something to do, even if for a moment, and to be useful to master; still trying my damn hardest to get into his good books. It’s turning out to be much more difficult than I could have expected, since my best _skills_ cannot be employed with him, at least not at this stage.

The evening finally drags along but it doesn’t make too much of a difference in temperature. Sitting at the kitchen table, I flip through the maps and the tour guides of Trost, burning each and every small little street into my mind. I give myself small thought exercises by choosing a starting and a finishing location in the city and finding at least two shortest ways to travel from one to the other and back, with at least one back-up plan in terms of public transport like the buses and street trams. At some stage, master walks into the room, startling me, making me worry that I’ve lost track of time and forgot to make supper. He speaks before I can panic too much though.

‘I’m gonna turn in for the night a bit earlier.’ He walks over to the sink, feeling for a glass on the dryer and pouring himself some cold water to drink. ‘Make sure you eat something yourself though. Clear, brat?’

‘Yes, sir.’ I’m not hungry at all, so my mind immediately runs through all the possibilities of the smallest piece of food that would actually classify as ‘eating something’. In case master would ask whether I ate later on; I feel like he’d be able to easily tell whether I lied or not.

‘A’ight. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, master Levi.’ He rinses out the glass, puts it back on the dryer, and I’m all alone in the kitchen again.

I continue my fairly entertaining study of the city but after a while I become paranoid that master is listening to me, and if I don’t eat he’ll scold me. I still don’t understand why this strange order to eat he keeps giving me seems so important to him, but it’s not my place to question. My place is to obey. So I take a banana from the fruit tray and eat is slowly as I go back to my previous exercises. Soon I start to think about my chores tomorrow, and to make it easier for myself I spend some time preparing a marinade for the vegetables I plan to put in master’s sushi tomorrow. It’s fully dark by the time I’m finished but I opt for a few more mental exercises with the map as I don’t feel tired in the slightest. Today wasn’t filled with any work, after all.

‘You’re still sitting around here?’ I almost jump out of my skin as I hear master’s voice, being so absorbed in my exercises that I didn’t notice him coming in.

Looking up, I see him walking over to the sink again. He’s wearing only long navy pyjama bottoms which, despite the white drawstring, hang low on his hips so that I need a moment to re-gather my thoughts. His upper body is far from ripped; it’s on the muscular side of lean, which suits him just right. I knew this before, and this is just another confirmation; my master is _beautiful_.

I try to explain my occupation of the kitchen as he’s filling himself another glass of water. ‘Sir, I’m- Trost- I’m learning about Trost, sir. Miss Hanji left some material for me- map, uh, tourist guide, so that- that I can be useful to you, sir.’

He furrows his brow as he drinks his water, listening to my words. Some strange tension grows as he puts down the glass while still holding it, seeming as he’s about to reply, or as if he’s thinking about something intensively. I frown myself, trying my best to not let fear take over; did I say something wrong again? I hold my breath until master finally moves, lets go of the glass and says a monotone ‘Don’t stay up late’ before leaving.

‘Yes, sir.’ I reply timidly, not even sure if he heard me.

Suddenly, finding shortest ways between points A and B on the map isn’t as fun anymore. Nothing seems worth doing; I thought he would at least approve of my attempts to make myself useful. After all, knowledge of Trost was the first thing he asked me about during the auction. My lips tremble against my will. I manage to not let tears slip, but I still feel weak, pitiful, and pathetic. Disgusting.

Wallow in self-pity and self-hatred, I go back to my bed and bury myself under the warm duvet. I’m aware I’m doing something close to sulking, but it’s just the frustration and helplessness getting the better of me. Or so I tell myself. I turn onto my back, staring at the dark ceiling. _That’s not how you’re going to make it better, Eren._ I battle my thoughts. I want to go there, to his room, and clear this up right _now_. Wrecking my brain for the perfect excuse, I suddenly hear the bed creaking in master’s room; the sound of someone tossing and turning; and so this perfect excuse dawns on me. Some small voice in my head whispers that this is a bad idea, but my determination is louder.

Leaping out of the bed I head straight to the kitchen sink, filling up the glass with cold water, the one that master used earlier. Overcoming the slightest bit of hesitation, I walk up, knock on master’s door gently and without waiting for an answer I push the door open slightly.

For a moment, I get an impression that there is some dark curtain hanging from master’s doorframe. I cannot see anything; the room is pitch black. Even the curtains are drawn, blocking out any moonlight. I can only guess that he was blocking out the sun and the additional heat earlier; cannot see a different reason as to why he’d draw them. I open the door a little further so that I can squeeze into the dark room.  Closing it behind myself and taking a tiny step forward, I start to articulate the reason for my intrusion. ‘M-master, I’ve brought you-’

Then there is a series of loud noises that disrupt my whisper; the bed creaking, sheets rustling, something heavy scraping against a wooden surface, and two such surfaces slammed against each other. I can’t make sense of where they come from, or even what order they’re emitted in; they happen too fast. My not yet fully-adjusted eyes aren’t any help in understanding what’s going on. The only thing that’s certain is the feeling of dread low in my stomach. ‘Sir?’

And then it clicks. Figuratively. And _literally_. The clear, sharp sound echoes in the room and I’m certain that my heart stops. My vision finally adjusts, and I can see my owner’s form, as he supports his upper body with one arm.

 I can also very clearly see the gun he’s pointing at me with the other.

 

And I’m frozen. My hand holding the glass doesn’t shake, my eyes don’t widen, my jaw doesn’t drop. My body is still, but my thoughts are racing. My master is pointing a gun. At me. _What did you expect, you stupid fuck, coming into his room like that?_ So is this how I’m going to die? That’s the last thing I expected; I was convinced it would be either bleeding out after a beating, freezing or starvation after being thrown out by master, some STD… Not like this. _But you’re a worthless sack of shit, that’s what you deserve._ But in the name of what? Because of something so relatively silly? And Mikasa- _She’ll never know and you’ll never see her again. He’ll pull the trigger on you any second now and you’ll never see her again._ And that’s when the shaking starts.

My owner remains a statue, meanwhile my entire body is vibrating with terror. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t let them fall; I feel as if he’ll hear it and fire. My brain turns to its default setting when in danger; begging. I try to stutter out something, but I’m stuck on the first word, ‘master’, so that the man finally interrupts me.

‘What the fuck are you doing in here.’

I want to curl up and howl in pain and fear. His voice has the scariest tone I’ve ever heard. He’s not shouting; his voice wasn’t even raised. But it is just so… cold, and dark. Dead. _Hollow_. I’m becoming hysterical.

Gasping for air, stuttering and whimpering, I manage - or so I hope - to explain that I just wanted to bring him a glass of water. He doesn’t respond or react for a while. When I start to wonder whether he even heard me, or whether I even spoke those words out loud, he gives the most unexpected command in that hollow voice.

‘Drop it.’

I’ve misheard it, surely. ‘S…W-wh… s-sir?’

‘I said _drop it_. Let me hear it break against the floor so I know you’re not lying.’ I remain still, just staring and shaking in ever-increasing shock. ‘Did you not hear me?! DROP IT!’

His terrifying shout makes me obey. I quickly extend my arm in front of myself and release the glass and just before the sound of it shattering into hundreds of shreds fills the room, I raise my arms to shield my face with a sob, as if that would protect me from the bullet. Tears finally fall.

As soon as the glass is broken, the air feels lighter, clearer. I’m not sure if it’s because the storm had passed, or because I’m about to get struck by lightning. I’m still too horrified and blinded by the notion that ‘ _oh my God each heartbeat could be the last and I might be dead before I know it’_ to find out. So I stand there, shaking in silence, shielding my tearstained face.

Once I realise that time is passing and I seem to be still breathing, I muster up the courage to lower my arms a bit. When I don’t see the gun pointing in my direction I dare to lower them fully, just in time to see master sitting on the edge of his bed and closing the bottom drawer of his nightstand. He’s hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Put some shoes on. Then clean this up and go to bed.’ His voice is emotionless and hollow and low again as he slowly stands up, making his way towards the bathroom.

I squeak out a teary ‘Yes, sir’ before he locks the door behind himself.

With tears continuously flowing out of my eyes I put on some slippers I find near the apartment door, take the dustpan and a roll of paper towels and go back to master’s room to clean up at least the physical mess that I’ve made. I cannot stop crying, and I cannot stop analysing. Miss Hanji’s words echo in my head once again, this time loud and clear. I’m a slave in a blind man’s home. It wasn’t just that master was _uncomfortable_ around me. He was… afraid? Afraid of… me? Afraid of what a deranged slave like me might be capable of? That thought makes me tremble on my knees as I clean. All I want to do for him is to show my gratitude for rescuing me from that dark, painful place. I can’t ever see myself hurting him; _he_ never hurt _me_ , despite having every right to do so. Fresh wave of tears falls when I think about just how _desperate_ he must have felt just now, pointing a gun at me, being close to killing something that he paid one and a half million yen for, and potentially getting in trouble with the law.

_He_ pointed the gun at _me_ , but I know it is me who’s hurt and betrayed him.

After spending solid five minutes sweeping up every shred and wiping up every drop I close master’s door and throw the glass pieces and the paper towels out. Obediently, I get changed into a loose pair of pyjama bottoms and go to bed. I pray for sleep but the thoughts of just how badly I’ve fucked up keep me up for most of the night.

 

I must have dozed off at some stage though, as I don’t see what’s coming. Out of nowhere, a hand clasps around my mouth and my eyes shoot open. I see a silhouette above me, but I can’t really make out any other features, and my groggy brain leaves me confused. Then the silhouette is laughing.

‘Wow, you really fucked up this time, you stupid cunt, haven’t you?’

That voice… And those features, slowly sharpening…

No…

‘I’m surprised he put up with you _that_ long! Really, you shouldn’t try using your brain, it obviously doesn’t do anyone any good.’

I blink a few more times and whimper as Keith’s face comes into focus. What in the hell is he doing here?! Oh God, master must have- he must have called him to take me back-!

I start trashing about, trying to fight him off, but he’s straddling me and his iron grip moves to my neck, making me choke; he doesn’t fully cut off my air to make me pass out, but he does squeeze my throat tight enough to make it very difficult to breathe. I panic, clawing at his hand with both of mine, which really doesn’t get me anywhere.

‘You really forgot about one important thing; see, this head and that pretty face of yours is only good for fucking. How many times have I told you? Thought it got drilled into that thick skull of yours. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten that!’

‘N-no… Not. True.’ I manage to gasp out.

‘Huh? What’re you saying, fag?’ He loosens his grip slightly.

‘I said- you’re wrong. I’m not only good for fucking-’

‘You sack of horse shit. You need to be reminded of your place.’

In a flash, he gets off of the bed and I’m forced to follow as he pulls me along and out of the room by my hair. He flips the light switch to the bathroom opposite my room and pulls me inside, ignoring my struggling. I grip the edge of the sink as he stands closely behind me, pulling my hair so that I face the mirror. I don’t look into it.

‘See this fucking face right here? And you’re trying to tell me it’s good for anything? What, you think you’d ever get employed? Or maybe you think you could have a lover, huh?’ He shakes my head roughly. ‘Look at yourself, I said, you pathetic brat!’

My eyes snap to the mirror, and what I see makes a sob escape my chest. It’s not Keith. It’s master Levi standing behind me. How could I mix them up?

‘Yeah, that’s it. Look at how pathetic you are.’ Instead, I look into his eyes in the mirror, and his gaze burns right through me. He can _see_ me. ‘Were you trying that hard to get into my pants, you dirty whore, huh? I’d never take anything as filthy as you into my bed.’ I’m full-on crying and sobbing as he leans into my ear, holding my gaze in the mirror. ‘You. Disgust. Me.’

‘M-master, please…’

‘Oh, master, _please_!’ He mocks my words in a high-pitched voice, and before I know it there’s a sharp pain exploding in my forehead. I look at the mirror, now fractured, and covered in blood. He pulls my head backwards, then smashes it into the glass again.

‘P-please, nn… sir, it hurts, n-no more, please…’ I wail.

‘Of course it hurts, but that’s what cunts like you deserve, isn’t it?’

When he does it for the third time, my vision fails. After the fourth, I pass out.

 

The next time I open my eyes it’s early dawn. I sit up in the bed, feeling sweaty and disoriented. The pain and the blood and the insults come back to me in ragged flashbacks. Bringing my head towards my forehead I find no blood. Taking the risk of pressing against it, I don’t feel pain. There are no bruises, no scars.

Oh God. It was just a dream.

Feeling victimised by my night terrors, I’m crying again, and hating myself for it. I bury my pathetic face in my pillow so that no sound can be heard. I manage to calm down after a while so I just lay there, feeling exhausted, but too scared to fall asleep. Soon my alarm clock is screeching at me to get up. It’s 7am so as usual, I have about an hour to get ready and make breakfast before master comes into the kitchen. I slam the clock into silence, grab a pair of clean clothes (which is still unspeakable luxury) and make my way to the bathroom. I flip on the switch and pass the perfectly intact mirror. A shiver runs up my spine, and I look away, proceeding to clean myself very _thoroughly_ during the shower, as usual. Soon I’m standing in the kitchen, making soba noodles with eggs for master’s breakfast; something I haven’t made yet, so I fidget slightly, worried whether he’ll like it.

With passing time I realise I have a more serious reason to be concerned; the clock on the wall says just five past eight, but I don’t even hear a sound from master’s room. During the week or more that I’ve been here, he’s never been late for breakfast. He seems like a man who likes his routine. So when it’s half past eight, the breakfast is cold, and I’m still alone in the kitchen, it becomes clear to me that things are very wrong.

I wait for another half an hour, picking the skin around my fingernails with nerves, until I heat the food up in the microwave and walk up to master’s door. I knock on the door twice, not daring to open it and shaking from the memory of what happened just last night when I have done so. ‘M-master? I have your breakfast r-ready…’ I almost press my ear into the wooden surface, but I hear no response. ‘Sir? S-should I bring it inside to you?’ I stand there for a good few minutes, but only silence answers me back.

I walk away and put the bowl on the countertop. Tears prickle at my eyes; no matter how hard I try to believe and convince myself that _maybe he just overslept_ and _it’s just a coincidence_ , I’m quite certain that this is all my fault, because of what I’ve done last night, and that it’s only the beginning of today’s oddities.

 

And I’m not wrong.

Time runs far too quickly, just to spite me. Before I know it, it’s noon, and I haven’t done anything besides jiggling my leg and tearing my hair out at the kitchen table. I also make myself a small sandwich at some stage, just with butter, not being able to stomach anything else from the nerves; but enough to tell master that I’ve eaten something in case he asks. That’s if he’ll even leave his room today. By noon he’d usually have asked for at least one cup of black tea to be brought to his room while he works at his computer. And I still don’t hear any noise from his room.

A sudden thought makes me stumble to my feet rapidly, almost toppling over the chair I was sitting on. What if he feels ill, what if he’s unconscious? It _could_ be just a coincidence after all? Cold sweat suddenly covers my back.

Without dwelling on this further I run over to the kettle and quickly prepare some tea for master, just to have an excuse to knock on his door again. Once ready, I stride up to his room door once more. ‘Mas… master? I’ve made some tea for you, sir. May… may I come in, sir?’ Just as in the morning, he doesn’t reply. I feel helpless. ‘Master… I’m so worried…’ Feeling like I’m speaking more to myself than to master, I surprise myself with how teary I sound. But I continue; there’s nothing left to lose. ‘Sir, I- I beg for your forgiveness, for- for what I did yesterday, I…I’ll take any punishment y-you see fit with gratitude, sir… Just please, forgive me, sir…’ Knowing I won’t get a reply, I hang my head in defeat, grabbing a hold of the door handle. This can’t get any worse, so I might as well, right? I think I’d rather he’d beat me to a pulp than give me this silent treatment. Taking a deep breath, I press down and let myself into the room.

Standing there in the threshold I see master in his bed, this time not pointing a gun at me, but lying on his side, turned away from the door and towards the still covered window. He’s got his duvet up to and under his armpits, leaving his shoulders bare. I watch him for a moment, and powerful relief washes over me as I see his shoulders rise and fall by the smallest amount in a deep, calm, and _steady_ breathing rhythm. I put the cup on the nightstand he’s facing away from, and take my leave.

 

The relief I felt in master’s room was only brief and the worry continues to grow instead. I’ve made curry soup, ready for 3pm; the time around which master likes to have his lunch. The clock mocks me, shoving a time of two hours later in my face, and master still hasn’t left his room. I spend my late afternoon reheating the soup, curling up against the kitchen counter and continuing to tear out my hair, or curling up by master’s door and pathetically begging him to forgive me. When it’s 7pm, I can’t stand it anymore. Before I know it, I find myself in the living room, speed-dialling number 2 on the phone, like miss Hanji instructed.

After just one beep I hear the cheerful voice in the receiver. ‘Levi, what’s up, grumpy old man?’

She seems so happy at the prospect of talking to Levi on the phone that I almost feel guilty for speaking. ‘M-miss Hanji, it’s Ere- slave Eren…’

‘Eren?’ Her voice immediately turns dead serious, and it makes me shiver. ‘Eren, what’s wrong. Where’s Levi. Are either of you hurt?’

I hurry to answer her questions, and after she seems satisfied that neither of us are in immediate danger, she urges me to explain the reason of this _distress call_. Hesitantly, but knowing it’s necessary, I quietly tell her about the whole incident, about my shameful disobedience, and about master’s concerning behaviour. Miss Hanji listens in silence, but once I’m done, I hear her sigh heavily.

‘I’ve expected something like this to happen… Not the whole gun business, but Levi holing up in his room. Not that soon, but I expected that.’ Her voice is thoughtful. I’m surprised she’s not scolding me yet, and also confused by her words. She expected that? ‘Listen, Eren… it’s happened before, where he just won’t get out of bed; it can be over in a couple of hours, or it can drag on for days. He gets those depressive episodes now and again, and I think you just accidentally triggered one. You have to be patient, give him some space, don’t bother him too much. But. On the other hand, don’t leave him to himself _completely._ Please. I know he must have scared the life out of you, but I know he wouldn’t have hurt you. He’s not that type of person, he just got scared. Bring him tea every now and again; tea always rubs him the right way. You’ve probably noticed.’ I hear her smile. I swallow up every single word she says. ‘And another important thing. Levi takes medication, and he needs to take it daily.’

‘F-for his eyes, ma’am?’ I mentally slap myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth. It’s not my business, not my place to pry.

‘No, they’re antidepressants. He takes two a day, ideally in the morning. But bring them to him now, once I hang up. If he won’t get up tomorrow, bring it to his room in the morning. They’re in the top cupboard, just above the microwave, closest to the fridge. They’re white cylindrical capsules. Remember; two, with a glass of water.’

‘Yes, ma’am, I’ll remember.’

‘Good. Go now, and call me tomorrow if nothing changes. Maybe I’ll come over myself then.’

‘Yes, ma’am, thank you. A-and I’m sorry for bothering you, ma’am.’

‘Okay, okay, go now.’ And with that, the line goes quiet.

Feeling stupid that I’ve never noticed master taking the pills, I follow master’s friend’s directions and find them with ease. Holding them in my hand, my heart breaks for my master, and I wonder whether his depression related to his blindness. So much pain in one person, it’s just not fair. And then someone like me shows up, upsetting him even more. No wonder he hates me.

I take the medicine and a glass of water, and once more knock on master’s door. ‘Master… I have your medicine. May I come in?’ By now I’m not surprised to get no answer. ‘Sir, please punish me f-for disobeying again, but-’ I already regret my next words, before I even say them. ‘-but you m-m-must take your medicine. I’ll… I’ll come in for just a second to bring it to you and I’ll leave, sir.’

Once more I enter the room, walking over to the nightstand again. This time, master is lying on his back with his eyes closed, arms by his sides on top of the covers. Unsure of whether he’s sleeping or not, I whisper as quietly as possible as I put the items down. ‘I-I’ll leave the glass and the tablets on the nightstand, sir.’

‘I’ve pointed a gun at you and then you say you’ll happily accept punishment for still caring for me?’

My head turns so fast I feel like I’ve almost gotten a whiplash. ‘Sir-!’ I look at master’s face; his eyes are now open, but otherwise he hasn’t stirred. I fall to my knees by his bed, overcome with emotion. ‘Master, please- please come back, sir, forgive me, I had no right to disturb you, I-! I promise, I’ll be better, sir, but please, give me a-another chance, sir!’

His face remains impassive for what seems like forever after my outburst. I pray for some sort of response. I finally get it as I see him making a move to sit up on the edge of the bed, and I quickly move away to give him space. With his hands gripping the bed by his sides and head hung low, he looks awfully vulnerable once again. And I can’t stand it. ‘That’s the whole… that’s the thing. See, I’ve hurt you. I was in the wrong. _I_ pointed a fucking gun at you. And you’re apologizing.’

Moving closer to him again, kneeling by his leg, I protest. ‘N-no, no, sir, no! It was my fault, I-’

‘Listen to me. I’ve- I’ve kept you at a distance, didn’t let us trust each other, and… I didn’t know how long this was going to go on for. I wasn’t prepared for your arrival like I should have been, and for that I’m sorry. Because it backfired at you, when I got stupid and scared. But- no… this doesn’t justify what I’ve done.’ His voice goes even quieter and I can’t bear to see him blaming himself for what I did any longer.

‘S-sir, please, stop. Please, don’t say it’s your fault… It’s me, I- I didn’t realise, I didn’t think of what you’d feel or think, but sir, I swear- I swear on my life- no, on Mikasa’s, on my sister’s life that- that all I want to do is to serve you, I- I’d never even think of… of… h-hurting you, sir.’ The last words seem so bizarre that I have difficulties voicing them.

‘Eren. I know. I was stupid. So… I’m… I’m asking for your forgiveness, Eren.’ Hearing these words leave his lips make me almost want to physically slap some sense into my master, make him raise his head up and remember just who _he_ is and who _I_ am in comparison to him.

‘I… I can’t, I can’t…’

Master’s unexpected touch on my face makes me gasp. Once his left hand finds my cheek and cups it delicately, he turns his face in the vague direction of mine and continues his unreasonable talk. ‘If you can’t forgive me, then… please tell me what I should do so I can be forgiven.’

And then it hits me that he really isn’t joking. His voice sounds way too sincere, and even his unseeing eyes seem to be conveying emotion. I take a gentle hold of his wrist by my face and lean into his gentle hand. If master Levi is filled with emotion, then I’m wrecked by the storm of it. Despite my efforts, a few quiet sobs escape me before I finally manage to whisper out ‘I forgive you, master Levi.’

To my never-ending shock, he smiles. It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t a test. He smiles. Just as if he really cared about being forgiven by something like me. Even though I would never dare hold a grudge against my master in the first place. ‘Thank you, Eren.’ No matter how bizarre, in the end, his smile makes me happy, and I smile too, against his hand. ‘Eren, listen to me once more. You’ve been hurt, and it’ll take time and work to reverse that damage.’ I don’t understand what he means, but I obey and listen. ‘But we’ll take it slow. I want you to remember one thing- to take one thing out of this conversation. You must know that… I don’t enjoy hurting people. No normal person does. So I don’t want to hurt _you_ either. You’re always scared of me, always expecting me to scold you or hit you, without a reason- and, and I understand. That’s what you endured until now. But I want you to know that here, things will be different. So… can you do that for me? Can you try and remember that I really won’t try and hurt you at every chance I get?’

I’m speechless at his monologue and his sad smile. Unable to process properly what I’ve just heard, I can only agree. ‘Yes. I’ll remember, sir.’

‘Good.’ His immediate smile brightens up the entire room. ‘Good, I’m glad.’ He pauses for a while. ‘So… say, do we have any more of that lovely-smelling curry soup left?’

I can’t hide my joy and leap to hug master’s leg as he playfully ruffles my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My God. This is so long, probably the second longest chapter to date? (almost 7k words..) Was planning on splitting it into two chapters, but felt like it'd break the flow :/ So anyway, here it is, and sorry for the long delay ^^' 
> 
> Also, to anyone that's interested; just letting you guys know that I do have the general plot planned out, I know how it'll all end, so if at times it'll seem that I'm just writing whatever, just to up the word count; well, that won't be the case xD And thank you to everyone reading and leaving feedback; this fic is just over 38k words now, and I never would have gotten so far without your support ;U; <3


	9. The Academic

Things have changed, slightly. They have changed for the better, and it makes my heart swell with warmth.

The tension that has been between my master and I from the very has noticeably dissipated. Master had told me that he doesn’t want to hurt me; of course, that sounded bizarre at first, but giving this notion another thought, I came to a conclusion that maybe this isn’t so outrageous. It only speaks well of master Levi to not want to damage his possessions needlessly; it makes me respect him even more. That, of course, doesn’t mean he won’t teach me a painful lesson when necessary and, of course, I’ll keep doing the best I can to not give him a reason for that.

In addition, master must have finally trusted me and believed me when I swore on my sister’s life to never hurt him. Back in that hectic moment, I said whatever my panicking brain came up with, without thinking. Now such promise seems somewhat… drastic? But then I think of master spending more time outside his room, spending more time around _me_ , and _accepting me_ , that I realise it was worth it. I lift up my gaze from the stir fry I’m making and steal a quick look over my shoulder at master Levi, having a break from his work and a cup of tea, keeping me company in the kitchen. Yeah. The promise was worth it.

I hear the man make a vague humming noise. ‘Is something the matter, sir?’

‘Just thinking… We’ll probably need to go do some grocery shopping, no? And we could use a bit of fresh air.’

‘Yes, sir.’ I cannot hide the smile from my voice at the thought of going outside again.

 

And so we go to the shopping centre the same afternoon; this time without miss Hanji. To say that I am stressed is a massive understatement. I’m basically shaking with adrenaline and awareness that I’m completely responsible for master’s wellbeing as we stand at the bus stop. With constant fear of fucking up, I repeat everything just as that time when master’s friend was with us. Luckily, we get on and off the bus without any issues, and master didn’t see displeased about anything. In fact, he didn’t really talk during the bus journey at all; master just turned his face to the window, letting sun warm his face. I had to look away, pain tugging at my heart again. _It’s a really not bad view_. He _knows_ this way. He’s _seen_ it before. And his obvious longing to _see_ it once more makes my eyes fill with tears. This isn’t how it should be. Not _him_.

Naturally, I cannot feel pity or sorrow for my master. I have no right. _I_ ’m the only pitiful thing here. So I focus on my work, walking beside master on the leash, leading him, gently taking a shy hold of his elbow when needed. Every now and then I hear a ‘ _Thank you’_ or ‘ _Thanks, brat’_ , and it makes me want to fall to my knees and beg him to stop being so kind as I can’t handle the injustice of this world; a man so kind and considerate to something as low as me, a man of such pure heart; this man has to be the victim of a cold darkness for the rest of his life.

My heart keeps swelling with pain and sorrow, as well as limitless affection as we walk through the aisles; master asking me what I’d like to buy, or comforting me with his words or a gentle touch whenever he notices my nervous behaviour around a particularly large or noisy group of people. We end up with a much smaller amount of groceries than the last time so that it doesn’t even fill a single bag which is light enough so that the plastic handles aren’t even biting into my skin. When I think that my gratitude couldn’t get any greater, I hear master say as we walk out of the massive building, ‘Hey, brat, want to get some tea or coffee? I used to go to this one place on the opposite side of the road, they got good stuff in there. You should try a pumpkin spice latte; personally, I’m not a fan but everyone always goes batshit crazy ‘bout pumpkin spice lattes in autumn. Even Hanji. You up for it? I’ll try and lead you to it, they’ve got a quite striking orange-yellow striped signboard.’

I’m speechless and unable to comprehend what exactly has just been suggested. But since master wants to do it, apparently, I squeak out a quiet ‘Yes, sir’ and follow his directions. Surely enough, I soon see the very flamboyant sign on one of the old-fashioned houses I looked at the last time I was here. I also notice the little stand with the man spinning colourful cotton candy, who was there the last time, and smile to myself for no other reason than it’s pleasant to see something familiar. Something familiar which doesn’t involve pain on my part, for a change, unlike at Keith’s. I try to make myself as small as possible while we stand in the queue inside, drawing my shoulders almost right up to my ears, and the growing discomfort – not too far from genuine panic – makes me fidget and shift my weight from foot to foot as I stand beside master. He must sense my nerves, and being the kind man he is, he brushes against my arm to find my shoulder, leaving his comforting hand there. My tension melts somewhat, and my shoulders drop slightly.

‘You alright, brat?’ He murmurs so quietly I barely hear him through the conversations of other people in the tiny coffee shop.

I nod, making a whiny ‘mhm’ sound before I slap myself mentally, remember my manners and reply properly. ‘Y-yes, sir.’

‘Mm.’ He sighs, not looking convinced. ‘Is there many people in the queue?’

I lift my head up briefly. ‘Three more, sir.’

‘Hm. Want to go somewhere else instead?’

And there he is at it again. I flinch at his words, his kindness bringing actual physical pain to my chest and undeserving heart. ‘N-no, sir! I-I mean… I-I’m sorry for being bothersome, sir, please- I – I’ll wait quietly now, witho-’ I fall silent when his hand rises from my shoulder towards my hair, expecting the hand to clench and pull at it. He said he won’t hurt me, but now I deserve it. And what sort of punishment is hair pulling anyway.

‘Don’t sweat it, kid.’ I get dizzy with relief when he only gently ruffles my hair. Suddenly I feel really stupid for making a scene like that over something so seemingly trivial, and I can feel myself practically deflate. I’m bummed. ‘So, still wanna give that pumpkin abomination a try?’

And I can’t stop affection filling my chest rapidly once more, as his monotone words are accompanied by a light pinch and a pull to my cheek; an action so _unlike_ him, yet so endearing at the same time, and I grin as widely as if there were no other people in the room. ‘Yes, sir.’

 

The setting sun warms out backs as we sit at one of the coffee shop’s designated tiny wooden tables. I sip at the strange beverage which doesn’t taste very much like coffee at all. I don’t see what the apparent hype should be all about; it’s neither too bad nor amazingly great. But master bought it for me, and it was even more expensive than his own camomile tea with lemon, so I drink it like it’s potion from the heaven itself. We don’t talk much, but that’s alright. Master isn’t much of a talker anyway, at least with me, so I’m not going to be an annoying brat, trying to strike up a conversation, while he’s obviously much more comfortable enjoying his tea in silence. When he asks me out of the blue whether I like the odd coffee I have a moment of blind anxiety; I don’t want to disagree with master and say that it’s bad; but on the other hand, I don’t want to seem ungrateful for what he had just bought for me. So I end up saying it’s different but good, and thank him for it, just for good measure, to make sure he knows I’m grateful. I’m not surprised when he doesn’t reply in any way besides the quiet, non-committal hum that he quite often does, and a barely visible nod of his head.

By the time we get back home it’s chilly and the sky is a beautiful shade of orange as the sun sets. My chest swells with joy again when master doesn’t retract straight away to his room, but instead gets to boiling the water in the kettle and taking out two cups for tea to warm up from the windy weather during our return journey, while I put the groceries in the fridge and cupboards.

 

Friday comes around and miss Hanji visits master’s house again. It’s the first time we both see her since the whole gun drama and my call to her for help, and I notice she keeps a close eye on both of us, surely trying to fish out whether something is wrong, whether master is hurt, or whether I’m being more disobedient than usual. She must be at least content with what she sees as she makes no remark or mention that terrible evening. She only drops in for a while though, giving me another map of Trost with a lot of photographs as well as some fantasy novel about some giants destroying the world. Initially, I’m confused to no end and don’t understand why I need this. I’m close to tearing up as she tells me that it’s simply a book she brought for me to read in my spare time. She leaves soon after that, wishing us a good weekend.

 

‘M-master? May I- May I ask, um… What… what do you do for work, sir?’ I curl in on myself before all the words even leave my mouth. I knew I shouldn’t have asked; it was none of my goddamn business. How did I even dare? But the daily mystery hiding behind master’s closed bedroom door fascinated me more and more, and seeing master flop down on the couch in the living room, hearing him sigh in relief and appreciation at the long-awaited arrival of the weekend so that he could get a break from his work… That was just too much, and as often enough, curiosity got the best of me, and here I am, quaking by the living room door frame, watching my owner furrow his brow. Bringing up the topic of his work right after he made it clear he wanted to be done with it for the remainder of the week. _That one was a classic, J_ _äger._ It won’t even be curiosity that’ll kill the cat; it’ll just be plain stupidity at its finest. Sure, I can always try and back off, right? Won’t do much good, but I can try. So I start apologizing but don’t get very far as master’s monotone words cut through mine.

‘Why do you ask?’ I wreck my head for a quick answer that would get me out of this ridiculous mess, but master speaks before I do. ‘It’s nothing- Boring to talk about. You wouldn’t be interested.’

His words hurt me just slightly, or at least that’s how much I’m willing to admit to myself. I can’t exactly go to my room and tear out my hair over the fact that yet another of my attempts to get closer to my master so that I can serve him better turned out to be futile. At least not right now. Maybe when master will go to sleep. ‘Oh.’ The quiet, dejected sound is all I can muster. I turn away from my intimidating owner to head back to the kitchen, where I belong.

‘But-’ I stop dead in my tracks and turn back around so fast I get dizzy, with something akin to hope surging through my chest. ‘Sure if you really want to, and if you’re really bored, I can show you.’

I gasp so hard my lungs hurt. ‘Y-! Ah, yes! Sir! I’d be so happy t-to see what you do, master!’

My mouth is still gaping as I watch him stand up and walk over to and by me, one of his arms outstretched to feel for the walls. ‘Don’t get so excited, brat. You’ll only get disappointed.’

I follow him to his room, asking in confusion. ‘W-why do you say that, master?’ Nothing this fascinating and beautiful man would do could be boring. He would make mail-sorting look like the career of one’s dreams.

He stops in front of his door, resting his hand on the wooden surface and angling his head towards my voice. ‘Because barely anyone cares about the cold, mathematical sciences.’ And with that, he opens the door. I gasp again at the word ‘sciences’ as I follow him inside. Did I even hear it right?! ‘Do you know much about science?’

‘Um-! Um-! I-! N-no, sir, um… Very- very little. Back home, they- didn’t teach us much besides practical s-subjects in school, um, woodwork, f-farming. A little bit of maths, sir-’ No one talked about science in Shiganshina. Why would they? To our simple minds it was not much different from black magic and witchcraft. Incomprehensible. But naturally, the younger generation like me would always get curious, hearing about novel things discussed by by-passers and merchants from cities, only to have this curiosity put out by parents and neighbours, telling us to _focus on real life_. Naturally, my own dad knew a significant amount, but he never told me anything, no matter how much I begged.

I follow master right up to his desk where he sits at his computer and feeling around for the switch button, turns it on. I am beyond excited, and feel as if some great and ancient mysteries of the world are about to be revealed on this screen, right in front of my eyes. I dare to sneak a quick glance at my master, and momentarily my enthusiasm falters. There’s no emotion on his face, his unseeing eyes open, the glow of the monitor reflecting in them. In that instant, everything feels unjust and _wrong_ , and my eyes feel heavy with tears for seemingly no well-defined reason.

‘Wanna grab a chair from the kitchen? No point in you hanging off my shoulder like that.’ I’m glad to have master’s voice pull me out of my thoughts and remind me why exactly I’m in his room.

‘Yes, sir!’ Some of my anticipation returns and I quickly bring a chair, setting it beside master’s own at his desk. The screen finally shows a turquoise background with just a few icons sorted nicely in the top right-hand corner. So different from Keith’s desktop whenever he’d let me talk to Mikasa on skype; littered with files and icons, unordered, a bunch of it being probably some disgusting videos or photos of some of his workers, and if so, surely some of them were of me too… I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the thoughts to go away.

‘Where do I start…’ Yes, I’ll focus on that calm voice instead. ‘Alright, here. You’re probably wondering what the fuck a blind man is doing in front of a computer, aren’t you.’ It’s not a question, it’s borderline on an accusing assumption that the master scoffs out without humour. He continues before I have time to answer or protest. ‘Well, as you can see, I’m not using the mouse, or very rarely. Just the keyboard, most of the time. Each key has dots on it, like Braille. Hanji wrote up some apparently simple program to change all the controls from the mouse and keyboard to just keyboard. Also some scripts that help me type; the word processor makes a noise when something is spelled incorrectly, and then reads back the text to me when I’m done. The computer also makes noises when I pass an icon or folder, reads out the name of it when I press enter.’ I watch with absolute awe as my _blind_ master navigates through the computer, while I have very little to no experience with these machines. Only what I’ve seen at Keith’s place… And as I listen closely, indeed, I can hear the faintest sounds coming from the speakers as master’s slender fingers dance over the keys. ‘Yeah, Hanji’s good with things like that. She also designed your collar, I guess she told you that? Yeah, she’s… she’s very skilled. But she’s an engineer, and I’m a physicist, so we always argue whether viscosity has the eta or the mu symbol.’ He scoffs at his own words, as if remembering an inside joke. It stings me more than I want to admit that I have no idea what he’s talking about, and that I’m not and never will be able to be a part of that joke or understand it. ‘Shitty four-eyes, it’s obviously eta.’ He murmurs to himself, without actual anger in his voice, and it reminds me of all the times when he calls me a ‘brat’. Pleasant warmth spreads in my chest for some reason and makes me smile. Then I realise I glanced over an important revelation.

‘Y-you’re a physicist, sir?’ I enquire timidly, hoping that he would elaborate, having no idea what a physicist does, and seeing that this topic is definitely something that can get master talking. I wreck my head, trying to remember a time when he spoke so much at once and I come up with nothing. Which is a shame; I could listen to him talk for days on end. I can never get over how beautiful and unique his voice is.

‘Yeah. I’m guessing that doesn’t tell you much?’

I feel stupid, like I’m unaware of something everyone has an in-depth knowledge of. ‘I’m s-sorry, sir, n-no…’

‘Tch. Not overly surprised. Hm. That’s okay.’ He talks at the screen, taps a few more keys, and the screen gets filled with massive amounts of text with some numbers and random letters between paragraphs. ‘I’ll fill you in. Hard to decide where to start though, cause see, physics… Physics is everything. It’s the most pure of all sciences. Do you know what science is?’

I feel like a deer in the headlights. ‘U-u-um… Um… It’s a- uhm-’ I swallow hard, trying to think. ‘Is it… h-how some people v-view? The world? H-how they learn h-how… things work, s-sir?’

‘Good. Very close. Science _is_ how the world works, it’s not just a view. That’s what religion would be. You know how you have different religions, right? Some people believe in one God, others in many, and others in none. There isn’t a way to prove it, though. Science is hard facts. Facts which have been tested over and over, and which are true no matter if the person believes in it or not. It’s a given that the circumference of a circle and its area is directly linked to this somewhat magic number pi, or that oil will always flow on top of water under normal conditions, on the surface of the earth.’ Seeing that my gibberish answer hasn’t phased him and he’s back to telling his wonderful stories, I calm down and watch with awe how these mesmerising, grey, _unseeing_ eyes come to life. ‘And physics. Physics is everything. The very fact that you’re sitting here is physics. You wouldn’t be breathing if it wasn’t for the fact that your diaphragm expands your ribcage, increasing the volume of your lungs while decreasing the pressure inside them, which creates a pressure difference between the atmospheric air outside your body and the inside of your lungs, and the fact that molecules, including gas molecules, flow from areas of high pressure or high concentration to areas of low pressure. So the air gets into your lungs and you can breathe, and use the oxygen in the air so that you can live. That’s all physics. This computer in front of me. Pure physics; current, flow of electrons; brought into action by the art of electrical and electronic engineering. But physics always gets the shortest end of the stick, compared to the other two main sciences; chemistry and biology. Do you know why, Eren?’

It takes me a moment to find words in my mouth, but once I do, I utter them quickly but quietly, wanting him to continue talking, but at the same time not wanting to disturb his train of thought with my voice. ‘Why, sir?’

‘Because physics is _exact_. Some say it’s unforgiving. It’s quantitative, instead of qualitative. Its main aim, but not the only one, mind you, is not to tell you _whether_ something happens; it wants to tell you _how much_ , or _how quickly_ something happens. And that brings on mathematics, because the world is mathematical. And people are scared of it, because they don’t understand it. So they stick to biology and chemistry, which of course, are just as important, but many do it because they like the pretty microscopic pictures, or diagrams in their books; because they think it’s easier to memorise long, fancy words, rather than to _understand_. So many miss out on the cold beauty of physics, and it’s a tragedy…’

He stops for a moment, and I’m worried that this is as much as he’ll tell me. But he keeps on talking, and it comforts me to no end, despite the fact that I really have no idea what he is talking about. Before I know it, I’m zoning out of the actual details of his magnificent speech, focusing more on the sound of his voice itself, or on the slightest tinge of pink to his always pale cheeks as his words become more and more animated, and his eyes become more and more _alive_. I feel like I’m witnessing something magical unfold in front of me, like watching a creature that’s been long-asleep finally waking up and coming back to life. _Life, life, life_ ; this is the only thing that races through my mind as I watch, rather than listen to my master talk. And _passion_ , and _love_. Utter and unconditional love for this area of knowledge that his life apparently revolves around, and the conviction about its importance and righteousness.

A strange and even warmer feeling of fondness and affection spreads through my chest and settles in a soft smile on my face; I feel like the worst bastard, but for once I am glad that my master cannot see my face. I get an impression that this sort of smile isn’t something a slave should direct at its owner. It shouldn’t dare. Yet I can’t help it. His voice keeps tugging at the corners of my mouth and gently melts away the anxiety hiding away in the deepest corners of my mind. How could someone with such a pure passion for something that’s apparently so clear and exact and true be a bad person, to anyone?

I make conscious effort to focus back on his words. ‘-and while he lived centuries ago, the laws he came up with still hold. And- no, there’s just too much.’ He throws up his arms in exasperation, and I’m still blown away at how animated he is. ‘There’s just too much to tell about physics in a single conversation, and that’s not even going into any details about anything…’ Then I watch some fantastic realisation flash in front of his eyes, I can practically see the cogs in his brain clicking into place, giving a wonderful solution to something. ‘What if I taught you?’

Wait, what?

‘I-I’m listening, sir…?’ I answer unsurely, and I cringe at how stupid that sounded. But of course, what else could have he meant? But then also, why is he asking the question again? He asked me just a few minutes ago if I’m interested in his work, and that’s why we’re in here. I frown, and anxiety returns, creeping up my spine.

‘No.’ He scoffs, as if I said something funny. Well, it was silly. Same thing. ‘I’m not teaching you, brat. I’m just telling you about it. I mean actually teaching you, from the basics. A couple of hours a week, say. That’d give you something to do, no? Not to mention some knowledge of physics is always useful to have. What do you say, kid?’

Anxiety reaches my neck and squeezes it hard, it turns my brain to mush again, making it hard to think. Why would he do that? Why would he invest time in me? I’m a slave mainly because I do not have an education and it has been assumed that I never will; now he’s trying to teach me. How does any of that make any sort of sense? I look up to his face for clues; his eyes are widened just slightly, but that life and passion hasn’t drained from them as he waits for my answer.

Good God, he’s _serious_.

I curl in on myself, speaking into my chest. ‘M-master is so kind t-to consider teaching so-something like me.’

I hear him sigh and glance up briefly at him. I wish I hadn’t. For a moment, his brow is now furrowed again, and his fist is clenched as if itching to strike me. I said something wrong again. As always. I bring my head back between my shoulders. ‘Would it make you feel better if you knew I’d be getting something out of this as well?’

Now this surprised me. ‘Oh?’

‘Yeah… That brings me onto what I’m actually doing. Just realised I never answered your question. I’m a physicist, but physicists do lots of things. They can go into industry, working with machines of all kinds; coffeemakers or sophisticated X-Ray machines in hospitals, you name it. Banking, predicting price of the dollar, or whatever. Astrophysicists, that study stars. The list is literally endless. And some of us go into academics; research and lecturing at universities. That’s what I’m doing. Well, used to be doing. I was a professor at the University of Trost, just starting out some research on plasmas.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘Yeah, I kind of miss teaching.’

‘W-why don’t you teach anymore, sir?’ Absolute dread fills me as soon as the words are out of my mouth. I can practically see master’s face harden, turn into this indifferent mask again, any traces of passion and life all gone.

‘Because I’m blind.’ His voice is cold and it chills me to the bone. Heavy silence falls in the room, and I want to apologize, but I’m scared of making the smallest noise. It is only when master speaks once more that I let out a breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding. ‘There was an earthquake. Some three years ago. That was just my second year of lecturing. I was the youngest lecturer, but I started my studies and college very early. Not important. There were first year students doing experiments when the shaking started. I remember I tripped running down the stairs when running to the lab. Had to get’em kids out, y’know, lab is the last place you wanna be during an earthquake. They couldn’t get out. Someone left some fucking massive trolley in front of the door, don’t even know what was in it.’ I listen silently to this morbid beginning of a story, fearing where it will go. ‘Took me a few precious seconds to get it out of the way. When I got in, the kids were freaking out. Most ran straight out of the lab, but two of them got stuck under a shelf that collapsed on top of them. They weren’t injured badly though. Could run when I got them out from under that shelf. But. That took too much time for me to get out as well. Everything started falling. Don’t even know what it was that crushed me, but it was heavy enough that I couldn’t get it off of myself on my own. I- I don’t even know when I passed out.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘When I woke up in the hospital they told me it was carbon monoxide leaking out of a tank in the lab. A few more minutes of inhaling that shit and it would’ve killed me. Instead, I _only_ ended up with what the fancy docs call cortical vision impairment. That’s what that gas does to you. Not like I care or like it makes any difference what sort of fucking vision impairment it is. Can’t see shit, that’s it. Sometimes I can make out the blurry shapes of the buildings or the horizon in very bright daylight, but that’s hardly gonna help me lecture or do any research. So what I do now is write physics articles for some popular science magazines for the general public. People who have no interest in physics whatsoever, who don’t care about the beauty of it or how much work was put into developing a law or finding a result. Hell, they don’t even want to see any equations. And that’s what I do for a living now. Hanji and one ex-student of mine read over these pathetic articles to make sure again that there are no typos. The student kid does it for free, that little bastard. Wouldn’t take any money, said he’s glad to help and he’d love the experience, something for his CV. Experience my ass. They’re all just treating me like a fucking charity case- what’s wrong with you?’

It is only when he asks this that I realise I’ve just let out an uncontrolled sob; I bring my hand to cover my mouth, but it’s obviously too late. Then I feel wetness on my face, and I realise I’m crying. ‘It’s… It’s not fair.’

‘Huh? Speak clearly.’

‘I-it’s not fair, sir! You risked your life f-for these students and- and that’s what you got in return!’ The helplessness I feel only fuels my tears as I rub at my eyes till they burn. ‘It’s j-just not fair, sir!’

His voice is devoid of emotion as he answers. ‘Well, life isn’t fair, brat. The fact that some of the staff and students got killed in this earthquake isn’t fair. The fact that I can’t see isn’t fair. Hanji’s past isn’t fair. Everything that happened in your life since and including your mother’s death, to this very moment when you sit here with a collar on your neck isn’t fair. That’s just how things are. Now stop being a baby, crying over lack of justice in the world. There is no such thing, and you should know it better than most people.’

I feel ridiculous and ashamed, because I know he’s right, and I’m just being a spoiled brat who’s throwing a tantrum. ‘I’m s-sorry, master.’ I drop my head again, but lift it up to master’s voice.

‘Here.’ There’s a tissue in his hand that he extends towards me, shaking it a little, urging me to take it.

‘T-thank you, sir.’ When I take the tissue from him his hand purposely touches mine, and I freeze. He uses this opportunity to find his way to my face, and then to my hair to ruffle it.

‘So do you want these lessons or no?’

‘I-I’d love to, sir!’

‘You sure? Cause brat, if you’re just saying that to be polite, drop it.’

‘No, no-!’

‘I won’t be angry if you reject the offer.’

‘Sir, no no! I- I’d really love to learn!’

He sighs and speaks after a while. ‘Alright.’ But he still doesn’t look convinced.

‘I really want to understand, sir! Y-you make it sound like the most fascinating thing in the world. I-I’ll never be as smart as you, but – but I want to- it’d be an honour to learn f-from you as much as I can, sir!’

He scoffs. ‘Intelligence isn’t something you gain, knowledge is. Who knows, maybe you’re much smarter than me, but just don’t have enough knowledge yet to show it.’

Smarter than him? My heart drops. How can he even say those things?! I’m too shocked to even think of a reasonable response.

‘You know how to use a computer, Eren?’

Embarrassment swallows me up again. ‘N…No. Not really, sir.’

‘Alright, pull up your chair here, I’ll teach you the basics of that first.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bahaha I can't believe this, like 1/8th of this chapter was character background, 1/8th was plot, and the rest was just shameless self indulgence. I thought it was gonna be sort of a filler chapter, fairly short, but it ended up over 5k words. I am sorry (but also not) but I just couldn't refrain :'D Hope you enjoyed the intro physics lecture lmao. Angst returns in the next chapter :'')


	10. The Accident

‘Alright, so list the three basic states of matter and tell me the basic differences between them.’

I swallow. I got this. This is just basics. I’ve learned it a week ago, so this is just recap. I got this. Master hasn’t hit me or given out when I gave wrong answers before, so he won’t be angry this time either. ‘Liquid, solid, a-and gas, sir.’ Lack of a negative reaction prompts me to keep going. ‘A liquid… um, the-the molecules, are- they can move, so liquid has n-no definite shape. A-and gases are similar but the small- the-’

‘Particles.’

‘Y-yes.’ I blush, embarrassed that he had to give me a hint. ‘The particles are very far apart, s-so gases often rise, like. Like air. And they don’t have a shape ei-either. But you can, uh, push them together, yes? They’re- they’re… compressible?

‘Good.’

My heart grows twice its size at master’s praise for remembering the ‘fancy’ word. ‘A-and solids have particles very very close together, s-so they don’t move a-and they have a definite shape, and are incompressible.’

‘Very good.’ He gives a small nod, taking a sip of his tea. The watch on the kitchen wall ticks loudly as I nervously anticipate his next question. ‘How do you move between different states of a substance then?’

It’s okay. I got this. ‘Y-you- if you start with a solid, you have to heat it up to have a-a liquid? Then you have to heat up the liquid to have a gas. A-and then t-to go from a gas to liquid you have to cool the gas down. Then y-you cool down a liquid to get a solid.’ I lick my dry lips. Then I remember another point master mentioned and add it quickly, just trying a bit to impress him. ‘B-but! Sometimes you can go- go from solid to gas, like with dry ice. It’s carbon dioxide.’ I think for a quick second, then add more. ‘And then- then there’s plasma, um, um, it’s when you heat a gas very strong a-and it forms a plasma, but it’s hard to make it on earth and-and- but there’s a lot of plasma in the sun. Because it’s very hot and- and there’s a lot of gas in the sun, um- um, hydrogen gas.’

Master Levi sits quietly for a moment and I’m picking at the skin around my fingernails while waiting for his response. But when I see the corner of his mouth rise up the tiniest amount visible, I know I did well.

‘Excellent. Very good, Eren. I see you did your homework.’

I realise I’m grinning like a maniac, unable to contain the joy and the amazing feeling of being praised, and by master Levi himself. And it still puts happy tears in my eyes that my master not only decided to teach me, but also that he encourages me and rewards me with a compliment when I do well. My smile falters slightly when I realise that it’s only the basics. I know that very soon, I won’t be able to keep up, I won’t be able to understand, and master will be angry, I’ll disappoint him, and he’ll stop teaching me, and never trust me to do anything right again.

That downward thought spiral wipes off the happiness from my heart and face completely.

‘Now, we’ll go to my room, you’ll start up the computer, sign into the user that we made for you the last day, open up an internet browser, and try to find a weather forecast for today. All clear?’

I can’t help but furrow my brow; that’s a really easy exercise; he taught me that at the very start, probably near a week ago. ‘Yes, yes sir.’ I get up from my seat as master rises from his.

‘If it won’t rain, we could go for a walk.’

A gasp of awe escapes me before I can stop it. ‘Y-yes, sir! Thank you, sir!’ Being outside sounds like a wonderful idea, and it scares me less with each time that we do it. Every time I become more confident that master won’t let other people hurt me because it never happened before. I don’t even mind the leash, because it always keeps me close to him. _Safe_. ‘I’ll do that r-right away, sir!’ My world brightens once more when I see his eyes soften, and the smallest trace of the briefest smile on his lips. I dare to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, _I_ put it there, and not just his thought of going for a walk. The pleasant heat blooming in my chest as a result almost melts me whole.

 

Once master Levi declares his approval at the forecast of a steady 5 degrees and overcast sky with low chances of rain, we get ready for our walk. Once more, I can’t stop smiling as he wraps a large navy scarf around his neck and up to his nose, making him look even shorter and more endearing. I drop my gaze quickly though, paranoid that he could see my grin or read my thoughts. But when I see his hand holding a beige scarf entering my field of view I’m more shocked than anything else, which helps me wipe that smile from my face. I look up at him. ‘Sir?’

‘Wear this, brat. And check if that dark green coat there fits you.’ Taking the scarf from him I wrap it around my neck, looking over to the coat hanger in the corner by the entrance door. I put it on and it’s only slightly small, and still comfortable enough. Each warm layer though squeezes more and more tears into my eyes, making it so difficult to hold them in.

I remember last winter very well. Without heating in our underground cells, the cold was unbearable; Jean and I _begged_ Keith for at least an extra blanket, which of course was futile; the only thing we could do was strip and share body heat under the two thin blankets from both of our beds, shaking and teeth chattering and grinding from the burning anger at our helplessness which sadly did not provide any heat.

And here I am, one year later, wrapped in layers, warm and toasty, receiving kindness I don’t deserve while my friend is most definitely starting to feel the approaching winter. The unfamiliar kindness along with the well-known guilt make a few tears spill. Like the pathetic brat that I am.

‘Does it fit?’ He asks as I stand back in front of him.

‘Yes, sir. T-thank you. Very much.’ I speak quietly into my scarf so that master won’t pick up on my teary voice.

How ridiculous of me, really, to expect that he wouldn’t. ‘What is it, brat?’ A soft whine escapes me before I know it. ‘Tell me what’s wrong, Eren. Is- Your feet still hurt in the shoes?’

And there he is, continuously considerate, making everything worse. ‘N-no, sir, I just- You’re so kind, sir- m-making sure I’m warm and- I-I’m so grateful, I’m so grateful, I’m-’ I swallow, trying to make my words more coherent and to stop my hands from wringing. ‘Just… Just can’t help b-but think about Jean- h-he was my friend at the… brothel, and… it’s cold there, he- he must be very cold.’ I finally shut up, but add a final, quiet ‘sorry’ as an afterthought. Sorry again for crying all the time? Sorry for being an annoying wimp? Sorry for delaying our walk? I’m not sure myself.

‘Eren.’ Master reaches out his arms towards me, finding my arms, then moving to the front of my body, finally taking a hold of the jacket lapels. I wince, instinctive fear now throwing off any remains of current emotional stability out the window. With my mind’s eye, I see nothing but Keith who used any shirt, top, or any other kind of upper body clothing as a handy accessory to throw me around. On the very few occasions when I actually had the privilege of wearing such. But no, this is master Levi. I focus on his hands, which don’t turn into fists. They only hold the jacket lightly. I focus on his face, his furrowed brow and somewhat perplexed and uneasy expression, watch his thin pale lips part and close, as if he can’t find the right words to express something. ‘Do- Would you rather stay in?’

That’s not something I expected, but for whatever reason, it soothes my anxiety. ‘N-no, no, sir. Please, p-pay no mind to my useless w-words, master.’

‘Tch. Don’t say that, brat.’ He says as he pulls up my coat zipper higher and then pulls out the leash out of his own coat pocket. His hands find my neck and turn the collar on it until he finds the clip. My stomach twists in humiliation just slightly, automatically. Instinctively. Consciously, I know the leash is a _necessity_ outside, as master himself had told me. And consciously, I made peace with this ‘accessory’; wearing it obediently is the least I can do to thank for the fact that he makes me wear it only outside, and that he never pulls on it or do anything else to bring any further discomfort and humiliation. Once it’s in place, master fixes my scarf and straightens my coat. ‘All ready?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘Alright. Wanna head over to the park first?’

 

As usual, master doesn’t speak much when we’re outside. And as usual, I don’t really mind. From what I see, he doesn’t spend too much time outdoors; his days are filled with article-writing, or reading; sometimes he listens to the TV (which hurts me every time I see it). And now, he also teaches me. All indoor activities. So I’m guessing he’s just enjoying his time outside. But speaking of his activities, I also don’t really see anyone visiting him, or calling him, besides miss Hanji. It makes me reconsider my previous guesses that I tried to bury; is master Levi lonely?

I shake my head as we walk; that’s still none of my business. So instead, I let myself dwell on his kindness once more. With recent revelations, it is now impossible to doubt his caring and selfless nature. The word ‘ _angelic’_ pushes itself into my mind, however extreme it might sound. But isn’t that what he really is? Oftentimes, I’d lay in bed at night, wrecking my head for a reason as to why master won’t touch me. Quickly enough I discarded the possibility of him being merciful enough to let me adjust to my surroundings first before using me, and replaced it with the conviction that he simply didn’t like me. For all I knew at that moment, he could be in his room, getting off to the sounds of underage boys being tortured in videos on his computer. With time, I realised that it was rather unlikely, but still, how could I be sure? He took care of _me_ , he was kind to _me_ , and to miss Hanji, but what else did I know about him at that point? I had, and of course still have, an unrepayable debt to him for giving me a new home where memories of torture and pain and humiliation fade further with each day, but… What did I know about him besides that? There was always the possibility that it was all a farce, that he was lulling me into a false sense of security to only break me later on. But now that I know of his sacrifice, the danger he accepted as he ran into that lab… His pure intentions can never be questioned anymore. He _is_ a good person. And I shouldn’t ever have had second thoughts before; but now, I simply have no right.

_God, Eren, there must be steam coming out of your ears._ I get so lost in my scattered thoughts that I don’t even notice when we sat down on a wooden bench. Looking around us, I’m met with the captivating view of almost bare trees, only a few of them still holding onto the last handfuls of orange leaves, while the evergreen trees stand tall and proud in the distance, their foliage having a cold, dark shade of green. Here and there, I see people strolling on the narrow, grey concrete path; some couples, some families, some people walking their dogs. An older man sits on another bench few meters away, throwing bread crumbs to pigeons. He’s close enough to put me on edge, but his calm, predictable movements and hunched over posture don’t seem threatening and don’t throw me into a pit of anxiety. _See, I_ am _getting better at this._

The familiar pain which by now I have learned to more-less identify makes my chest clench again. It is the pain of injustice, of shared grief and longing. Longing to be able to see. The injustice of risking your life for a cause and being left crippled. Unasked, I take that pain on myself too, as pointless as it is. It hurts _me_ too, that master Levi cannot see the naked trees, cannot see the overcast sky that he loves so much. I’m in pain over the fact that he gave up on lecturing, and now has to make his living through something which is below his ambitions and intellect. And it’s not just because I’m grateful for all he’s done for me. I don’t want him to suffer, because he doesn’t deserve it, because he’s a good person, and because-

Because I _care for him_.

My breathing stops short at the conclusion which my train of thought brings me to. I… I must have a death wish. I try to fill my mind with whatever else, naming out the objects in front of me, _anything_ to get my mind off that dangerous path, still feeling paranoid that master might somehow read my thoughts. And I have no right to care for him as a person, do I? Just like I had no right to look at him with fondness when his face came to life while he spoke with passion about his work. The only thing I’m allowed to do is to cater to his every wish and obey his every order, because that’s what a slave does, without thinking, without analysing, without-

‘You warm, brat?’

I let out a shaky breath into my scarf, feeling so grateful that my owner’s voice brought me out of my mind’s yet another vicious cycle of chasing its own tail. ‘Yes, sir.’ My shoulders sink down slightly, and I wasn’t even aware they were this tense. I look over at master who’s leaning back on the bench, sitting comfortably, one leg crossed over the other. So calm. He’s so calm, that it’s rubbing off on me.

‘Mm.’ He hums in reply, as he often does. ‘You must be bored to no end, sitting aimlessly in a lame park with a blind old man?’

My eyes widen and my brow furrows as I stare in horror at a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Why would he say something so _awful_? Does he not even realise how grateful I am for being able to sit outside, breathe in fresh air? ‘S-sir! W-why- no!’ I’m too shocked to even form coherent sentences, and I have no idea how to rebuke his words without giving him the impression that he was right.

‘Ah, calm down, kid. Was just pulling your leg.’ He says without humour. I fall silent, not convinced. But then he pushes himself to get up, and I’m immediately standing myself. ‘Wanna get some bread for the pigeons, too?’

The word ‘too’ definitely doesn’t escape my attention, and I wonder; he must have heard the older man either rustling the bag, or maybe he could hear the birds, flapping their wings around or hit their beaks against the pavement? Or maybe, just maybe, he used to come here often, and maybe he knows the regular people that come here, _if_ the man is a regular. _Shut the fuck up, Eren, and answer the question_. ‘Y-yes, if you want, sir.’ I want him to know that he doesn’t have to provide me entertainment so that I won’t be _bored_. But then I realise how bad it sounds; _if you want_. As if there’s a possibility he doesn’t particularly want this, as if I’m assuming that he’s doing it just for me. And it’s obviously not my place to make such assumptions- _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. I want to groan in pain as the poorly-oiled cogs in my head heat and strain from useless overwork.

‘Right come on then.’

 

Though there are two or three small shops in the close vicinity of the park, master suggests a quick trip to a bakery where they make really good maple and pecan pies, whatever they are, and get the bread while we’re there. I smile into my scarf. It’s just endearing to no end how he’s got his favourite places for coffee, or some particular pastries. And it makes me endlessly happy to keep learning new things about him.

Having studied the maps and tour guides for what seems like an eternity, I’m somehow capable of conjuring up a short route that at the same time does not involve taking the bus. Shyly suggesting the way, I’m happy as a child getting a bike for Christmas when master agrees with the path I came up with.

_It’s not like he’s got any other choice._

Fuck. There’s that pain again.

 

We’re walking through an alley connecting Rose Road and Trost Main Road when my inner alarm bells start to buzz uncomfortably. There’s an unexplained tension prickling at my neck and my breathing quickens. I’m starting to wonder whether I’m having another random panic attack, or-

Then I hear them. Footsteps. Fuck, Eren, it’s normal, you’re outside, in town. These people will just pass you by or you’ll both get to the busy Rose Road before them, and everything will be fine. I look to my left side for confirmation from master Levi’s calm face and-

_Fuck_. Fuck no, it won’t be fine. His brow is tense, lips pressed into a thin line, his right hand at his chest, holding tight onto my leash without pulling it taut on me. ‘Don’t turn around, Eren. Keep walking.’

Breath hitches in my throat. So I’m not the only one with instincts going wild. Well, that’s hardly any consolation. It’s all my fault _, it’s all my fault_. I brought us to this alley, just a narrow road going through it, no one walking there, in the shadow between two buildings. It didn’t look dangerous on the map, and a shady place like that wouldn’t be mentioned in a tour guide. I should have known, _God, I should have known_. Keeping my head unmoving, I glance around me; this place is as fishy as it could possibly be. There really isn’t anyone here, despite the fact that there are a number of entrance door and windows lining up the buildings’ sides. All dark, leading only to empty apartments, I’m sure. God, where have I brought us? Where have I brought _master Levi_?

Feeling faint with terror I try to differentiate the heavy approaching footsteps. How many of them are there? There must be at least three. _No, Eren._ Focus. Calm down. Not much further until we reach the busy road. It’s bright there, and there are people who’d call for help if you were attacked. If _master Levi_ was attacked. And these people behind you are probably completely harmless, they’re just going for a walk too, and have no ill inten-

‘Heey, boys? What’s the hurry?’

_Oh, God. No, please no._

Finally, the dreaded steps catch up to ours and time starts to warp strangely. It seems to slow down as some hooded men walk in front of us and then stop, forcing us to come to a halt as well, with master Levi almost bumping into one of them. I want to take a step back, but there are more of them, we are surrounded.

‘What a lovely sight; little man taking his dog for a walk.’ I hear one of them say, but I have no idea which. The voice seems to come from all around me, just as the laughter that erupts from the group following the words.

‘Don’t touch us.’ This time it’s master who speaks, and a shiver runs down my spine, reminding me just how intimidating he can be. My cowering form in the auction room fills my mind for a split second.

But it has no effect on the men. ‘Oh, have you no sense of humour, old man?’

As soon as I see a vile hand connecting with master’s shoulder, anger fills me. When I see how he’s shoved in a direction of another man so that he’s staggering, almost falling, and grip on my leash loosening, I’m livid. Before I know it, I’m throwing myself at the offensive man. ‘He said, don’t FUCKING TOUCH HIM!’ My action takes him by surprise and I manage to throw a punch square into his jaw. Now he’s falling back. But so am I.

A pair of disgustingly large arms grabs my waist as I’m still trashing about in fury. ‘What the fuck, that’s not even a pet, that’s some goddamn rabid dog!’ The strained voice behind me is a satisfying indication that I’m giving the man a hard time trying to keep me from wriggling out of his grasp.

‘Watch out, don’t let it bite you. Who knows if he got the thing vaccinated.’ Another voice calls out.

‘Let. Him. Go.’ Master’s face is the definition of deadly anger. Restrained, calculating, and absolutely lethal. He makes a move as if he wants to make a step towards my voice, but is stopped again by the man behind him, pulling his shoulder back. I start trashing with new vigour, and then I hear something making a clanking noise as it falls to the ground. It’s master’s folded cane that he carries with him whenever we go outside, just in case, as he said. Everything seems to stop for a moment, and then one of the men, one standing adjacent to master with a black hoodie on, starts laughing.

‘Oh no, that’s just waaay too easy. A slave _and_ an invalid? Such a lucky day for us, who’d have thought!’ I watch in horror as the man shoves his hand into one of master’s coat pockets, taking out his phone, while master himself is _motionless_. Is- Is he in shock? Why isn’t he fighting? ‘Ah, what the fuck? What sort of a phone is this? Ain’t nobody buying such cra-’

I’m sure I’m just as shocked as the men when master fights back. With a perfectly calculated and swift movement he grabs the man’s arm, making him drop the phone, then quickly finds his other shoulder, pulling him closer and aiming squarely into his crotch with his knee. The man howls in pain, and that seems to prompt his friends into action as the initial surprise wears off. The man behind him grabs him again, and being a bull in human skin it’s no feat for him to hold master’s wrists behind his back in one hand and to wrap his other arm around his shoulders, rendering his upper body practically immobile. My own struggling isn’t being much help either, with the only result being increasing pain around my wrists.

That fucker that master hit recovers way too quickly and gets way too close to master’s face, trying to intimidate him and failing as my owner keeps his head high. The man whispers angrily and I hold my breath and strain my ears to hear him. ‘The fuck are you doing, little man, huh? Don’t think you can tell, but there’s six of us, you fuck. And you throw a stunt like that? You got a death wish, huh?’

‘Just hurry the fuck up!’ Another one of these men shouts and the black-hooded man looks at him briefly, but quickly turns to face my master again.

‘So why don’t you jus-’

His words are cut short when master spits in his face.

Then chaos erupts. I can’t do anything besides futile struggling as the man knees master in the stomach once, then twice. With the third time, master is coughing up blood, and it’s the most terrifying sight that I cannot stand. But master doesn’t cry out, he doesn’t shout; he keeps it all in him to not give those bastards the satisfaction. So _I_ scream. ‘Help! HELP! FIRE! Somebody CALL HELP! _FIRE_!’ I briefly think of Mikasa who taught me that whenever you need to call for help, never shout ‘robbery’, never shout ‘rape’. Nobody will care, unless it’s something that could put them in danger also. Like a fire. Never gave it a second thought, never thinking that I’d ever be calling for help. Now I can only hope she was right.

‘Fucking DOG!’ The disgusting man finally turns away from master, but my relief is short-lived when he pulls out a gun and the bone-chilling sound of it cocking echoes between the two buildings. My blood runs cold, and I’m frozen. My eyes track the weapon as it’s pointed first at me, then at master, then back at me again. ‘I’ve had enough of you two fucks. Come on, search him quick for a wallet and we’re getting out of here.’ I’m assuming he’s talking to one of the people from his group, but the only thing I can focus on is that barrel now touching master’s temple. I feel sick. ‘And you. Don’t you dare move a fucking muscle.’

It takes my entire willpower to stay still and silent as another one of these creatures walks up to master and searches every pocket both in his jacket and his jeans, finally fishing out the leather wallet while master is held and completely defenceless. His blind eyes are still shooting daggers at everyone around him. I’m silently thanking him for obeying the man though and not putting himself in further danger by struggling with the gun still against his head.

‘Right come on, let’s go before someone shows up.’ The man with the gun speaks hastily, throwing me a deadly gaze. With fury rather than fear racing through my veins, I’m not intimidated in the least, and return that gaze with burning hatred. He smirks, now pointing the gun at me. Dread sits heavy in my stomach, but at the same time there’s some relief that master Levi is not in immediate danger anymore. ‘Should I put down the dog?’ His manic grin almost splits his face in half.

‘Are you fuckin’ serious, wanna attract attention? Hurry the fuck up!’

Then, after what seemed like forever, my wrists are released and I’m pushed down to the ground as the group of men quickly moves back in the direction from which they came from. I lift my head up just in time to see one of them shove master against the wall, making him fall, before running away with the group.

‘Mas-!!’ My first instinct is to run over to him and make sure he’s okay, but once my brain takes half a second to process the sight of the man who’s done so much for me so hurt, sliding down the wall, with a pained expression on his face; I’m not thinking anymore. There’s only rage. _I’ll fucking kill them_.

Something akin to an animalistic growl rips out from my throat as I heave myself up; I guess I’m a dog after all. My legs carry me in the direction of those vile creatures and I’m about to start chasing after them, without a plan, when I spot a glass bottle sticking out from a bin. Still without thinking, I grab it, and with all the force that my still weak body can muster, swing it at the group of retreating men. My luck has it that it hits the man with the gun in the shoulder. For a moment I feel fear, but it’s gone quickly. _Good_. _He_ hurt master the most.

Just as I hear shouting, I spot something even better beside the bin. A pile of heavy-looking, broken pavement bricks. Picking one up and running up a few more steps I manage to aim it right into the gun man’s jaw, just as he turns around. The brick makes a disgusting cracking sound as it probably – hopefully – knocks a few teeth out, making the man spit out blood. _Justice_.

But of course, he still has the gun. One second it’s pointed at me once more with his shaky arm as he curses and runs away, and the next, pain erupts in my body as I fall to the ground.

I’m not sure _how_ I fell. Was I still running? All I know is that my vision blurs for a moment – I must have hit my head – and that I’m lying on my back on the hard concrete, with my name echoing around in my head, for some strange reason.

‘Eren!’

Was- was that just in my head or is someone actually shouting my name- Oh. Oh God. Where is he? Is he all right? ‘Master… Master!’ The strained cry that pours out from my throat sounds so desperate that it scares me. But what scares me more is the fact that I don’t see him. Wriggling on the ground doesn’t do much; the overwhelming pain doesn’t let me get up, but just before panic drowns me, miraculously, he’s there. Kneeling above me with blood smeared around his lips, but he’s there.

‘Eren. Eren, where did you get shot? Fuck, where’s the wound?’ His hands are suddenly on me and I can’t help but flinch instinctively. He’s touching my head, lifting it up, feeling the back of it, then moving on to my chest, my stomach. His hands are frantic. He’s scaring me; his voice doesn’t sound like his at all. There’s the deep softness, but it isn’t calm. There’s barely contained panic in it, and I don’t like it. ‘Eren talk to me! Where’s the wound?!’ The wound? Or, right. I got shot, didn’t I? Yeah… But… I don’t know, the pain is everywhere, and my head feels thick. ‘ _Eren_!’ The desperation in his voice forces me to make an effort in locating the pain. And once I focus on it, I regret it immediately, for the agony gets so much worse.

‘L-leg, a-ah… le-eg.’

He huffs out a breath and his hands are on my thighs. My right leg jerks up instinctively and I howl in anguish. ‘Where. Eren, where, where- shh, put it back down…’ His probing hands finally reach the epicentre of the pain. ‘Fuck. Fuck. No, no, no.’  Why… it’s- it’s my upper thigh, I… I won’t die, right? Nothing vital has been damaged? I won’t… _expire_ , right? ‘Eren, where are we exactly. The exact street name.’

Somehow my brain manages to recall the name of the two streets that the alley is located between. Once I give him the answer, I watch him bring his battered phone to his ear as he presses some buttons. While the dial signal echoes from the device, master pretty much tears off the scarf from his neck and wraps it tightly around my thigh while holding up the phone to his ear with his shoulder. I watch, almost mesmerised, as the navy scarf quickly gains an almost black splotch on its surface, that steadily grows in size. With some delay, I realise master is speaking.

‘But you must come as quick as possible. Right now! He- he’s bleeding profusely. His femoral artery might have been damaged. I think he hit his head too, he might have a concussion- Yes, yes- No, he’s coherent but- Don’t know if for long- Just- just _fucking_ hurry!’

I watch him silently, my pain momentarily forgotten. He’s… worried? Why is he worried? Is it really possible that he’s scared I’ll… die? But why- although, no, it does make sense, doesn’t it? He’s paid so much money for me and- and he hasn’t even used me as his bed whore yet- I’d be such a wasted investment… This is why he’s so worried, isn’t it? ‘I’m so- ah- I’m so sorry, sir. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ The words are out before I even think them through but really, this is the only thing I can say now.

‘Eren, shh, what are you talking ab-’

‘It-it’s my fault! I-I brought us here a-and they hurt you, th-they took your wallet.’ A sob rips out of me. ‘He hurt you! It’s m-my fault, sir, I’m s-so sorry for being useless, I… You wasted s-so much money on me, I- I was a bad s-slave, I’m sorry-!’

‘Eren.’ His voice breaks through my sobs, stern and seemingly calm once again. ‘Don’t you dare talk like this. You hit your head- But the ambulance, they’ll be here soon. And they’ll patch you up, and it’ll be all good, you hear me?’ I try to whine out a ‘yes’, not daring to contradict his serious tone, but another minute movement of my leg has me crying out in pain once more. ‘God- Is it- does it hurt that bad, Eren?’

I gasp.

 

_‘Does it hurt, Eren?’_

_My breathing is laboured as I try to hold in my groans. Stripped down and tied to a metal board on the wall with my arms above my head in the punishment room, I’m defenceless against the cattle prod sending electric shocks down my thighs. I can only close my legs, pathetically buying myself time before the device goes the inevitable route. Still, I grit my teeth, not wanting to break._

_‘Silly slut.’ Keith’s foul smell along with cigarette smoke fills my nostrils. ‘You know I’ll break you anyway.’ Another shock on my hip makes me break out in cold sweat. ‘And you know where this is going if you won’t hurry up.’ Mu entire body is shaking as I feel the tip of the prod touch my shaft. ‘Say it hurts and beg me, and I might reconsider.’_

_Damn liar. ‘F-fuck you!’_

_This time, there’s no stopping the screaming that follows – he must have delivered at least a few shocks in quick succession. I try to reign the cries back into groans at least, but the man is relentless. ‘Does_ that _hurt, Eren? Are you ready to tell me now?’_

_‘I- I fucking hate you! I’ll kill you, fucking monster!’ I won’t break. I_ can’t _break._

_‘Well… Looks like you need a bit more of an incentive. How about this…’ I’m still gasping for air when he plucks the cigarette from between his lips and takes a hold of my scrotum with his other hand. ‘Let’s see how long till you beg.’_

_And with that, everything goes white with liquid fire, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s pressing the cigarette against my sensitive skin. Through my screaming, I hear his voice. Just barely. ‘You know what you have to say, slut.’_

_‘Fu- AH! Please, stop! Stop! Stop!’_

_‘Close, almost there…’_

_‘Fuck! Fuck it hurts! Stop! It hurts!!’_

_My broken pride hurts almost as much as the residual burn. ‘Good. Now look me in the eyes, and say it again. Ah, it sounds so lovely when you say it.’ I hold onto the last shreds of my fleeting pride, meeting his hard gaze with my lips sealed. I watch him re-light his cigarette. ‘No? Want the next burn to be on your dick instead?’_

_Grinding my teeth, I weigh my chances. I know he won’t let me out of here until I obey. Until I submit. I watch the treacherous little glow at the end of the cigarette, as if testing me. Teasing._

_I won’t win. Not this time. Not this battle. So with all the venom I can muster, I mutter out the words that he so craves to hear. ‘It hurts.’_

_His disgusting smile is that of the devil himself. ‘As it should. Very good. I’m glad.’_

‘Eren, please talk to me. Can you still feel it? Does it still hurt?’

Master Levi’s voice manages to somehow drag me back to the present. I want to answer his question but I’m afraid of his response. Will he be glad that I’m in pain also? No, no, this isn’t Keith. This is master Levi; he wrapped a warm scarf around me today to protect me from the wind. He wouldn’t hurt me… right? Nothing is clear in my head anymore. Everything is heavy. ‘Y-yes, master. It… It hurts.’

I flinch as I watch him take a breath to speak. ‘I’m sorry, Eren, I’m sorry… Hold on a bit longer, the ambulance will be here soon.’

My breathing calms despite the pain. Yeah. He’s not Keith.

 

Master keeps me talking for another while; I don’t know how long, and I don’t even know what I’m saying; I only feel my mouth moving and vibrations in my throat, as well as my own consciousness fading. One moment master is above me, and the next, his face is replaced by blue and red lights and the siren of the ambulance echoing off the walls. Where is…?!

‘…is a slave, si-’

‘-an’t take him-’

Fuck, I can’t keep my eyes open. God, what’s going on? I strain my neck and twist my body, trying to find where he is, pain immediately forgotten. Has he left me? Why wouldn’t he, of course… But God, please, don’t let it be true.

And then I see him. He’s standing a few metres away, talking. Arguing. I can make out some words he’s shouting. ‘-fucking will!... No time!- I’m aware, I will! Now…! -bleed out!-’

Master, why are you shouting? Why are you upset? Please, don’t be upset. And please… _Please don’t leave me._

With effort, I manage to stretch my arm out in his direction. But it’s useless; I can’t reach him. He’s too far. He’s not paying attention. And I can barely see him anymore with the bright lights blinding my weak consciousness. Then, there are hands on me. Did I pass out again? No, I can still see the lights. But those people are touching me, moving my body, lifting it up… What are they doing? Their overwhelming presence, along with the fact that I can’t hear master Levi anymore, cause panic to set fully within my barely coherent mind.

‘N-no, no! Master- master, please don’t leave me!’ I can hear myself sobbing, screaming, short of _screeching_. But it’s like my voice isn’t my own. I can’t breathe. They can’t take me away. ‘Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me, _please don’t leave me_! I’m sorry! I’ll be good! Please, please, no!’

Over my own cries that quickly become incoherent to my own ears, I hear the people above me start shouting too. ‘Sedate him!’ But their words have no meaning and soon my body betrays me, dragging me into slumber, with the last thing I see being my outstretched hand towards my master who isn’t there.

 

_Gentle snow covers my body as my body floats through the frozen waters._

_The gentle petals kiss my closed eyes, begging me to stay sleeping. I open them nonetheless, reaching out to touch my faceless reflection in the sky. It crashes around my hand in glassy shards, piercing through my eyes and bone, pushing me further under the loving ice._

_A navy scarf wraps itself around my neck, pulling me further, drowning me, choking me. And I can finally breathe again._

 

My only wish is to stay asleep, swaying gently in the arms of unconsciousness. But my eyelids keep fluttering on their own accord until the light finally shakes me awake.

Not that the light is very strong; it’s only source, as far as I can see, is a small lightbulb in the ceiling. I squint, trying to identify my whereabouts. There are… shelves around me? Bottles, plastic wrappers, towels… Both to my left and right. Yet I’m lying down. It’s a hospital bed, and there’s an IV drip stand by my head. But _this_ isn’t a hospital room. Where… where _am_ I? Am I even still alive?

The more time passes, the more confused I become. There’s a chair beside my bed with my clothes draped over its back. I look down my lying body and indeed, I’m naked, covered from the waist down with a thin white sheet.

The memories come back slowly. First the attack, the men, the gun. The ambulance. My own cries. Master’s shouting-

My body jolts up and I’m sitting up, reeling from a vertigo. As my vision clears, I only see more shelves all around me, in this tiny room. More bottles. More plastic wrappers. More towels. But master Levi isn’t anywhere to be seen.

My lips, no, my whole body is trembling. He… he left me. He’s not here. He left me, _he left me_. What- what should I do? Run after him? But where would I go? How long have I been out? If he never wanted to see me again, I’m certain he’d make sure I’d never find him. Not that my body could keep me upright even if I tried to run, since it’s struggling to stay stable even in a sitting position.

I don’t have the strength to hate my pathetic weakness as fresh tears fall freely down my cheeks. He left me behind. He doesn’t want me anymore. Covering my mouth with my hand, I’m helpless against my body’s shaking with silent cries and sobs. It’s all my fault. _Please… Please, don’t leave me_.

‘Yes. Yes, so please cancel the current one, and send a new one to my address. I will, yes. Thank you.’

I’m frozen, but my heart is hammering so fast that I can feel it in my ears. This voice- It’s right outside that door, and-!

And then the door opens and- And he’s there. He’s _here_. ‘M-master…’

‘Oh, you’re awake, brat?’ He says casually, seemingly completely unaware of the way my world just collapsed a second ago. His arm is stretched in front of him as he slowly manoeuvres between the shelves, stepping closer towards my strangely-located bed. ‘How are you feeling?’ As he reaches out towards the pillow, I take his hand and place it on my shoulder to let him know I’m sitting up, making his head turn more towards my direction. His eyes widen. ‘Eren, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?’

‘I… I t-th. I thought y-you… you left m-m… I thought you l-left me, sir.’ I gasp in terror as I realise nothing is final. There’s no telling that he didn’t come to say goodbye. ‘A-are you…’ My sobs make it hard to speak. ‘Are you go-going to le-leave m-me, s-sir?’ I squeeze my eyes shut, too scared of his expression and what it might mean.

‘Wh- Eren, what? Why would I leave you? What are you talking about?’ His hand is then in my hair, stroking it as if trying to calm me down. And it hurts; it reminds me of my mother. But I force myself to push that memory aside for a moment.

‘I’m broken and- and it’s m-my fault y-you got hurt, m-master.’

‘No no no no no, don’t talk like that. You’re not broken, you’re all right. They patched you up, and in a few days, you’ll be as good as new. We’re going home in the morning.’ Home? He’ll take me back? ‘And I’m okay too, don’t worry. They did a quick check-up on me; just a few bruises, so I’ll live. And those bastards won’t have much use of my wallet anyway; I called the bank customer service earlier, now they just called me back to confirm that the old card they took is being cancelled, and they’ll send me a brand new one in a few days. So it’s all good, Eren. Don’t you worry, brat.’

If his words weren’t that comforting, I’d calm down simply from hearing him talk for so long. As always, his voice does wonders to my psyche, and I’m soon melting into the hand that ends its caresses way too soon for my liking, finishing it off with a quick hair ruffle that is so characteristic of master by now. He then takes a seat in the chair by the bed, crossing one leg over the other and intertwining his hands on top of his thigh. ‘Well… I’m guessing you have a ton of questions? Wanna start firing ahead?’

I think for a minute. Sure, my mind consists only of questions right now. Where do I even start? ‘What is this place, sir?’ That seems like a reasonable start. In addition, it’s short, and I give myself a mental pat on the shoulder for managing to say the words without stuttering.

‘Hospital. A hospital’s storage room, to be exact. One of. It’s- Ah, it’s formalities. See, they- How do I… Uh, they wouldn’t agree to put you in a normal room, with other patients. Technically, the hospitals are for, well, full citizens.’ I understand. Of course I understand that. What I do not understand, however, is why master is beating around the bush and not simply saying that I’m here and not with the other patients because I’m a slave. ‘It was a bitch convincing them to even take you in, and to perform the surgery. God, their fucking regulations…’

‘Surgery?’

I realise how dumb that was as I see him furrow his brows. ‘Well, yes, brat. They had to take the bullet out. Turned out it didn’t hit your femoral artery after all. But it was close. And that- well, that wouldn’t be anything good. So you should thank your lucky stars.’

The words are out before I can stop them. ‘Thank you, master.’

It’s almost comical, seeing his expression go from a confused pulled brow, to surprised wide eyes, then to a somewhat stoic but irritated look, yet I know that it really doesn’t contain anything ill-natured at all. ‘You’re still under the influence of sedatives, kid. You should rest.’

Obediently, I flop down on the flat pillow. ‘Sir, how long ha-have I been out, anyway?’ 

‘Over twelve hours, it must be some time around three at night now. They gave you pretty strong sedatives; you were trashing a lot when the ambulance came.’

Embarrassment flushes my cheeks. ‘Y-yes. I… I remember.’

After a moment of silence, he speaks again. ‘Also, I… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but if not, then please just stay calm, okay?’ Well, that has the exact opposite effect, and my hands grip the thin sheets already. ‘See, they- They’re all awful bastards here, and they don’t want you- They don’t want someone with a collar on to be seen walking around the ward, say, if they need to go to the bahtroom. But then, it’s against the law to take it off of you. So they put a catheter in you, so- so that you don’t need to go.’

By the time he finishes talking, I’m gasping for air. I’m scared to check, but I have to. Lifting up the sheet with a shaky hand, with disgust I see that it’s there; a tube obscenely extending from my urethra, leading to some plastic bag, somewhere on the side of the bed where I can’t see it. And it’s disgusting. I can’t stand it. They’ve touched me, they’ve seen my scars. There’s something _in_ my shaft, just like Keith loved to torture me. I want it _out_. ‘No, no, no… N… out, _out_ -’

‘Eren, no.’ Masters hand quickly finds my arm and grips it tight, but not strong enough to bruise. ‘Please, be reasonable. I understand. I know you hate it, I understand. But _please_ , you must realise it’s for the best. You’ll only end up hurting yourself, and they’ll put it back anyway. I know you’re strong enough to endure it, Eren. Will you at least try for me?’

Another set of tremors, somewhere deep in my muscles makes me shake again. But I can do it. If master says so, then I have to believe him. ‘Ye-yes, sir. Just- just please don’t leave.’

‘I’m not going anywhere. Staying right here.’ His expression softens, sensing that I’m not about to go all berserk on my own body and cause a commotion. ‘You want anything? Water, maybe?’

There’s only one thing I need, and that is to hear his voice. ‘No, sir, but- Can you finish the story? The one you started yesterday? How- how Einstein challenged Newton’s laws?’

He smiles briefly, but quickly hides it behind his beloved stoic expression as he pulls up his chair closer to the head of my bed. ‘Well, strap in kid. We’ve got the best bits ahead of us now.’

 

I’m not really sure who fell asleep first, but I’m pretty sure I’m the first one to wake up, if master’s calm, relaxed face and closed eyes are anything to go by. It’s quite a sight; initially, I’m taken by surprise and slightly scared when I open my eyes and have someone’s face so close to mine; his arms are folded over the edge of my bed, close to my pillow, with his head flopped down on top of them. I briefly wonder how he didn’t fall sideways in his sleep. But seeing that it is master Levi’s face, any nervousness goes away, replaced by a feeling of pure tranquillity.

He’s even more breath-taking than usual. The constant pinch of his brows is gone, dark and long lashes rest peacefully against pale skin, and his lips are parted just slightly, squished gently on one side where his head rests against his forearm, while he takes in slow, calm breaths. I want to look at him like this forever, soaking up the peaceful feeling radiating off of him, but obviously, this is too much to ask.

‘Mr Ackerman.’

If the voice wouldn’t have woken him up, the surprised jolt my body makes surely would. Whatever it was, he grimaces at being ripped away from sleep’s warm embrace and lifts his head up without facing the mean-looking old nurse behind him. ‘What is it.’

‘Mr Ackerman, it’s almost six in the morning. ‘m here to get you two ready to leave.’ Her disinterested eyes and tone say that she’d rather be doing just about anything else instead of being here.

‘Is that so.’ Master murmurs as he slowly gets up. He leans over me for a moment, and whispers. ‘Be strong for me, please.’ With that, he stands up straight, and slowly walks away, feeling his way around until he reaches a safe spot to lean against, by the door.

I tear my eyes away from him, and reluctantly look at the approaching nurse. I want to flinch away and tell her to not touch me, but I can’t disappoint master Levi. He trusts me to be good. So that’s what I’ll be, even if it will be difficult.

‘Arm.’ The woman throws the word at me, and it takes me a moment to understand what she wants. When I figure it out, I reach out my right arm to her, the one with the IV needle in it.

I bite the inside of my mouth just in time before she rips off the plaster with the needle so that nothing more than a grunt is heard from me. It’s harder to stay quiet when she pulls the sheet off of me, leaving me so terribly exposed. It’s even more difficult when she stands at the edge of the bed and I hear her pulling on latex gloves, snapping them while doing so – I swear, this must be on purpose to scare me further. I close my eyes and turn my head away for good measure. I can handle this.

Oh God no, I can’t handle this, not when she’s taking my shaft in her hand and starts pulling on the tube, not gently at all. I can’t help the way my knees rise up, and I get a painful squeeze that makes me whine as punishment. Forcing myself to relax again, I can only think of master Levi, and my promise to be good. I can be good. Even though it hurts like _fucking hell_.

But then it’s out. It’s finally out, and my legs shake with the effort I put into keeping them still. ‘Get dressed. Be ready in two minutes, then I’ll take yous out through a back exit.’ Two minutes sound like enough to get dressed, but with my weak body I’ll probably be running short on time, so I leap out of the bed, reaching for the clothes on the chair.

‘So what about the stitches on his leg?’ It’s master’s voice that fills the tiny room again.

‘Dissolvable. Gonna degrade on their own, so you won’t be coming here again.’ They _really_ are determined to not have a slave in their hospital, aren’t they?

I’m zipping up my coat as master speaks again. ‘Do I need to sign anything before we leave?’

‘You must be joking. Most definitely no. This is a state hospital, not some private clinic. No one wants this crazy stunt on the record. The payment has been classified as an anonymous donation. You and your slave _were never here_ ; do you understand me?’

‘Ah, sure, sure.’ Well, that old hag definitely picked the wrong person if she was in the mood for intimidating someone. ‘You ready, Eren?’

I walk up to him, all wrapped up in warm layers again and ready to go. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good.’ He gives me the briefest smile as he puts the leash back on me and fixes my scarf, while his own neck is bare. ‘Let’s go home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I never planned it for this to be THAT long. It's just over 9k words, so the longest chapter yet I think, what even. Anyway, here it is, ayy, hope you enjoyed the angsfest ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ  
> Some more serious conversations in the next chapter. Also, planning on having a chapter from Levi's point of view some time soon~   
> Aaaaand, thank you to everyone reading this weird fic and supporting me ;U; I definitely wouldn't be at +50k words now if it wasn't for you guys <33


	11. The Alleviated

Lying flat on my stomach, facing the window, I admire the delicate flakes of this year’s first snow tap delicately against the window, looking like grey, dusty puffs against the pale, cloudy sky. This year, the thought of snow isn’t terrifying as I face early December wrapped up in soft, warm covers and safe from the cold.

 _Safe_.

What a strange word, and what a strange concept. Yet the remnants of the stitches on my thigh that diminish with each day remind me just how much effort a single raven-haired man has put into keeping me in this state – _safe_. In those lonely moments – which now become less frequent due to my duties with cleaning, cooking, now topped with master’s physics lessons – I often think back to that fateful day which was no more than two weeks ago, yet still feels like years. While my gratitude has no end and the list of my life-long debts to this man has been extended again, there’s the guilt that lingers, too. He had to spend money on me. Again. He never told me how much he paid for my treatment, and I never dared to ask directly. In fact, he doesn’t like going back to that incident; didn’t from the start. Master just brushed it under a rug as if it was the most normal thing to do; as if it was only reasonable to argue with the paramedics, the doctors, and the nurses to get me patched up after trouble that _I_ have gotten us into, and then paid for it. And what do I give him in return? Basic household maintenance that he must have dealt with perfectly before on his own. In other words, I give him nothing.

I frown, hiding my face in the fluffy blue pillow, recognising the depressing route that my thoughts so love to go down. Then I leap out of bed and basically throw myself onto the floor, start doing push-ups while the memory of a conversation I had with master few days ago fills my mind.

 

_My body wasn’t my own for some time, and Keith thoroughly made sure I understood that well. But I had to remind myself; this was master Levi I was approaching, not Keith._

_I sat at my usual place by the table, with my back to the sink, and adjacent to master to his right side. His fingers stopped caressing the invisible words in the book as he heard me sit down. Mustering up courage, I spoke. ‘Master, m-may I ask for something?’_

_‘You know you don’t have to ask, brat. What is it?’_

_I took a breath. ‘I- I wanted to ask if… If I could work on m-my body, make it stronger, sir. Build up muscle. I was… weak that day, I- I still am, and… And should something similarly awful happen again, I- I want to be stronger, so I can fight. So I can protect you, sir.’_

_A few moments passed before I got his response. Initially, it was only in the form of a furrowed brow – or at least, more than usual; something he always does when confused. His slow words then followed. ‘I see… But I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking of me. If… If you were thinking of joining a gym, uh, that might be tricky; you wouldn’t be let in on your own, if you’d be let in at all, and my days are quite packed now, but, maybe during weekends…’_

_‘Sir, no, no!’ Did he really think I’d have the audacity to demand something so frivolous? ‘I- I just- I was thinking of, like, just doing some exercises in my room li-like, push-ups?’_

_The frown on his face only grew deeper. ‘So what you’re saying is… you’re asking me whether you can exercise?’ He asks as if I just made the most unreasonable request. I did have second thoughts about whether this was a strange thing to ask, but here we go, this is my confirmation, I suppose. ‘Eren, it’s your body; there’s no reason to ask me things like these. It’ll be good for your health too. But don’t push yourself too hard; start slow, yeah? Especially since this whole hospital stunt must have weakened you. You had a slight concussion, after all.’_

_But I barely hear him after the first sentence._

_“Eren, it’s your body.”_

 

 _My_ body. I haven’t had anything truly mine for what seems like forever. Nothing in Keith’s place was mine, and with that madman’s relentless effort soon my body, and with time my pride and self-respect were also robbed of me. This place is fairly similar, in the sense that everything surrounding me is someone else’s, just kindly given to me to use by my merciful master. But now, with each drop of sweat forming on my forehead I’m regaining ownership of my own skin and bones.

Embarrassingly, I don’t last very long. My weak arms give out before I can reach fifteen push-ups. But that’s okay. It is okay, isn’t it? I’ll take it slow. Slow, but steady and regular. With time, I’ll become stronger, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll achieve a body that master will want to touch.

 

Two or three days later, there’s that awful sensation in my chest again as I stand in the kitchen, master and miss Hanji sitting on the couch in the living room, chatting, watching and listening to the television in my view. A sensation that just eats away at you, bites through your skin and muscle, slowly dissolves them. Chews at your ribs, pries them apart. And while you’re in bits, your pieces scattered mercilessly, your heart feels heavy. A dead weight hanging from your lungs, making less room for air which you so need right now to deal with this pain.

It’s a beast that smells fear; a merciless animal, and once it spots you, it returns to you, creeps up behind you when you least expect it. Its ruthlessness roots from its inability to kill you; in the worst case scenario, it can pounce at you with other beasts and make you wish you had the strength to stop the pain yourself.

Its name is loneliness.

The empty void of a creature, curling itself up in the misery of your heart. Basking in it, making room for more of the dark, heavy waves. Waves that flood your mind until your brain is incapable of holding a coherent thought besides the cruelly-induced darkness. Waves that slosh the morbid waters around until your spirit shrivels up and can’t contain them, making them spill down your face.

The beast has spared me for many years, and I remained oblivious to its existence, only hearing of similar creatures from legends and poems or heart-broken lovers. Then one fateful day it must have smelled a weakness that I wasn’t even aware of, and it took its chance as my mother breathed her last breath. Once it bit me, it kept returning to its marked slave.

I told myself I was its master; it couldn’t control me. I kept it away from the light of day and eyes of others, believing it would shrink up and die, never reaching the surface of my consciousness again. What I didn’t realise was that it is an immortal monster of the dark and I only helped it grow in size. It grew, and reached a point where I no longer fool myself that I have the upper hand.

Yet another collar is placed on my neck; an invisible one, but tighter and more bothersome than what is physically on my skin. It grinds the tranquillity of the peaceful evening into ashes, ripping my chest open and tightening its painful grip on what remains inside. When the tears come, I don’t fight them. There is no point. Resisting the creature as it feasts on my misery only spurs it on.

It turns my head forcefully to watch from afar, as if from behind a one-way mirror. They can’t see me and I can’t reach them; I can only be a passive bystander. I watch them interact. I see the warmth surrounding their conversation, the deep friendship, the pure platonic love, the comfort. They don’t need to pretend in front of each other. Each of them has found their safe haven in the other, and their companionship keeps the beast far away from them; here with me, on my side of the glass. My lips form some sort of a smile, but the tremors of my trembling lip ruin it quickly. I’m happy for them. There was a lot of pain that I had to go through in my life; caused both by humans as well as those otherworldly imaginary devils. Both physical pain, but even more so, the pain that plagues the mind. Those countless tortures, and yet the body bounces back after some time. Those endless humiliations, and yet I find it hard to recall something which hurts as the misery-hungry animal that rejoices in your agony when you have no one to turn to. I’m happy they’re safe from it.

But I wonder if even God himself knows just how much I’d want to walk through that mirror. How much I want to be a part of the loving, domestic, and so very _normal_ scene playing out before my bloodshot eyes. For what seems like forever now, I’ve been just fine with keeping my head down and watching my solitary life slip through my fingers. Or so I told myself, and the monster, my only companion, the only thing that felt familiar, naturally encouraged these thoughts. But now, seeing that there could be more to life, the vile creature howls in protest, killing its host. Killing me. I try to put up a fight, knowing it won’t work. I reach out, but my hand hits the glass. I’m not one of them, and I never will be. Why that’s the case, I’ll never know. Why I deserve this, why I’m _stuck_ like this; these will remain a mystery.

Something like a laugh or a scoff bubbles up in me, but never makes it to my tear-stained face. I’m so weak. I shouldn’t have struggled; the beast felt it, and now called the others for help. Self-hatred. Anxiety. Fear. And the tears just won’t stop coming. So unreasonable. It is their lives, and this is mine. This is how things are. Maybe fate, or God, have a particular dislike of me. Not that it matters. It doesn’t. It doesn’t, because nothing can change it; I’ll never have what those two people in front of me have.

I hang my head and drop my hand in defeat, the cruel beings winning. They’ve torn me to shreds, leaving nothing but cold tears, silent sobs, and desire for something I’ve never had in their wake.

I’m so small. So insignificant and so worthless.

Worthless. I’m not one of them. 

I’m just so alone.

Blinking a few times, I notice two big dark splotches on my olive-green shirt. Just how long have I been standing here, crying like a pathetic dog that I am? I get my answer when I take a step back and miss Hanji’s head turns towards me; I must have been standing still long enough that with the corner of her eye, she didn’t notice I was there, and only noticed the movement.

But, fuck. It takes her a second to put together what’s happening, at least more less, but she sees my disgusting wet face; her eyes widen, and so do mine. A classical deer-in-headlights situation; fuck, do I stay, do I run? If run, where to? I don’t really think, but rather my legs carry me on their own and I dash to my room, closing the door behind me with enough clarity of mind to not actually slam it. Trembling for a moment, standing by the door, I dart to a place which is somewhat obscured and invisible from the entry. In the next moment, I find myself sitting on the floor in the space between the large wardrobe and the chair by the desk with my knees brought up to my chest and a hand clasped over my mouth as feverish sobs shake me. Fucking ridiculous. Keeping my voice down, even though she knows perfectly well where I am. But maybe there’s hope that she – or worse; they – won’t come to my room. I mean, why would they, right? Crying is not a crime, is it? It’s not a valid reason for a punishment, is it? And master wouldn’t hurt me over something like this, would he? No, it’s master Levi, he’s kind. But would he be angry, disappointed? That I’m still a snivelling pathetic brat with no hope in sight? He’ll surely reprimand me, at least, for all this crying I’m doi-

‘Eren?’ Fuck. That voice is always so cheery that it’s comforting, but now it makes my teeth chatter and new tears gush out. ‘Eren, can I come in?’ I couldn’t answer her even if I wanted. Breathing is just barely happening, so there’s no hope of actually speaking. ‘I’m- Eren, I’m coming in, okay? I’m worried.’

Worried? Why is she worried? It’s not like I’m dying. And it’s not like it was her who spent money on me. My breath hitches when I hear the door open slowly. My mind is so gone at this stage that I don’t even understand what I’m freaking out about; all I know is that I can’t stop shaking and all my instincts are firing their alarm bells at me. By the time she’s standing above me, casting a shadow over my form, they’re deafening and I feel like my head is going to split in half. I realise I’m on the verge of another panic attack, and all it’ll take is a trivial stimulus that’ll send me over the edge and into the abyss of hysteria.

‘Eren…’ Miss Hanji puts a gentle hand on my shaking knee as she squats down in front of me. My hand is still covering my mouth but keeping my crying silent is getting harder. It must look so comical; she’s completely calm and stoic – for once – and I’m basically bobbing up and down on the floor from the tremors. I don’t dare look up at the woman. ‘Eren, I won’t hurt you. You know that, don’t you?’

I whine, not really knowing myself what kind of answer that was; not even knowing what kind of answer I _would_ give if I had any sort of control over my vocal chords right now. All I want is to get away from the edge; I don’t want to lose it, like back there at the mall, like-

‘Awh, cheese puff, you’re so upset…’

Wait what?

I freeze. Did I even hear that right? The shock makes me look up at her; and in that moment, the edge disappears in the distance where I no longer see it. ‘Ch… cheese p-p-puff?’

She laughs lightly, and I notice her hand is no longer trembling with my shaking knee. Involuntary sobs still make my body jolt occasionally, but at least I’m breathing. ‘You scared me, you looked so… panicked.’ I lower my eyes, mumbling out something that was meant to resemble an apology. ‘No, baby, don’t say sorry. Just… what happened?’

Huh?

Yeah, what happened, exactly?

Oh, that’s right. But how do I even explain that? ‘M…Ma’am, it-it’s no-othing, I… I’m. I’m just be-being stu-stupid.’

‘Hey, Eren, don’t say that.’ She takes a breath. ‘I normally wouldn’t pry, but you really looked upset, like you were going to have a panic attack.’ I shiver. ‘Please tell me, and we’ll try to fix it, hm?’

My face scrunches up in pure unrestrained sadness. ‘I-It… can’t be f-fixed.’

She gives me a reassuring smile. How misplaced. ‘Try me.’

I feel my resolve not to tell break under her concern; I want to believe it is genuine so badly. ‘I- I felt… I felt lonely, ma’am.’

After a few seconds of a pause, she finally replies. ‘Lonely? When you saw us, there in the living room and you were on your own in the kitchen?’

I gasp, truly realising the impact of my stupidity. So basically, what I’ve done now is openly complain about my master enjoying his perfectly deserved companionship and relaxation with his friend, something which is fully entitled to, while I, a fucking dog, was supposed to just sit in the kitchen, my chores done, so the only real thing to do for me was to _not fuck up_. And what do I do? Obviously fuck everything up. ‘A-ah… I-I’m…’ I grit my teeth, chest hurting from fear again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Eren, shh.’ I flinch when she leans forward, but relax just slightly when I see she only wipes away at the fresh tears on my face. Oh. I haven’t even noticed them until now. ‘Why are you apologising? It _was_ mean of us to just leave you there on your own….’ It… what? What did she say? ‘Hmm, come on, puff.’ She takes one of my hands in hers and stands up. ‘Let’s go to the living room together and sit with Levi.’

Gasping, I try to pry my hand from hers, but her grasp is firm, without being painful. So I try to press myself harder against the wall instead. ‘No, no, no, no, no… A-angry, he- he’ll be-’

‘Aww, why would he, now? I’m sure he wants to know if you’re okay. He’s sitting there, worrying.’ He’s… worrying? But my life is not in danger, obviously. So there’s no reason… to worry, right? ‘I promise you he won’t get angry. Will you believe me, Eren?’

Well, that’s not something I’d dare to oppose, so I let the woman help me to my feet and lead me to the living room on my shaky legs.

I really have no idea how master hears us entering the room, considering our socks make virtually no noise against the floor – but then again, it could be me still snivelling without even realising. But once he picks up on our presence, he turns in our direction, sitting on the edge of the couch, strangely stretching his right arm towards us, just slightly, as if unsure. His expression is strange, and somehow, it reminds me of the time when I laid on the concrete, bleeding out, master above me with ambulance on the phone. ‘What happened?’

He doesn’t lift his head up when we stand closer to him. I want to answer his question, be obedient, not be pathetic, but no voice comes out. Miss Hanji, with one hand on my shoulder, helps me again. ‘Eren just… feels really lonely and abandoned.’

I take in a shaky breath through my nose, trying to ready myself for very likely ridicule, master telling me to grow a pair and not bother him with such trivial bullshit. And I’m absolutely not ready for this.

Neither was I ready to see master turn just slightly, more towards our direction – the direction of miss Hanji’s voice – and open his arms… in an invitation? Was this really…? ‘Come here, Eren.’ Once again, I’m that poor deer, and I’m frozen. Was he really offering what it looked like he was offering? I don’t want to misinterpret, but then I feel the hand on my shoulder move to my back and give me the smallest nudge forward, and that’s all I need. I surge forward, into my master’s open, welcoming arms. Straddling his hips, I fist my hands in his white loose top, and despite the height difference, make myself as small as possible, bring my shoulders right up to my ears and bury my head in his chest. I hear a quiet ‘Oof’ above me, followed by Hanji’s name and some words about making tea. I’m frozen, and then I hear water running in the kitchen. I don’t dare move, fearing that I’ll somehow burst the delicate bubble, this fantasy, this beautiful dream. But when slender arms slowly, as if hesitantly, wrap around me, my lungs fill with air once again. _Master is holding me._ And I’ve never felt this safe in my life.

We sit like this for a while, in silence, save for my shaky breaths and quiet sobs. I’m on the edge, but it’s not another panic attack that I’m keeping at bay. I feel relief that wants to wash over me, but I know that if I’ll let my emotions loose, master’s shirt will have to be put in the dryer in a matter of minutes from all the tears and snot that will definitely follow. I savour the safe feeling instead, focusing on how warm, how solid, how _real_ he feels, with his hands rubbing my back just slightly.

‘Is this okay?’ His voice is quiet when he speaks, and my heart clenches up. God, this was more than okay.

‘Yes, yes…’ I say quietly, mimicking his tone, still too afraid to break this fragile moment. For a moment, I fear that he’ll make me leave, but his arms continue their brief caresses, and I relax back. ‘Yes, sir. Yes. S-safe. Yes.’ Realising he might not have even heard my mumbling, I curl in more tightly under his chin.

‘I’m sorry.’

Now, that’s not something I expected. Nor do I feel like this is going to go in any good direction. ‘H-huh?’ I give the most diplomatic answer my brain can now muster.

 ‘I’m… sorry for keeping you away. Thought that, maybe you’d want to be left alone, you know… I didn’t want to make you feel trapped, or forced to do anything. I figured that… because of all that happened, that, maybe you didn’t want to be touched, I-’ I listen with disbelief, but intently. Master takes a break for a deep breath. ‘I thought- I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Didn’t realise I was going all wrong about it, that you’d need the comfort. And I denied you that. I’m… I’m sorry.’

No. This is wrong. All wrong. Listening to his master apologise to _him_ made his ears tingle with the _wrongness_ of it. ‘N-no, sir, no, d-don’t apologize. N-not… not to m-m- _me_ , sir. I-It’s m-my fault, I- I’m worthless a-and path-thetic, please I- I nee-’

‘No, hush, don’t say tha-’

‘ _Please_.’ I get a strange feeling, like a vertigo in my head. It feels like a strap just snapped and gotten loose in my mind, freeing up something. I don’t know what caused it, or what I’m saying, until I’m half way through my words, but my mind feels somewhat… clearer? Lighter? Yet my stuttering doesn’t reflect it. ‘Please, s-sir, help me. It hu… Sir, it hurts, I- Help, sir. Stop it f-from… hurting so bad, I- I’m sorry- please…’

His hands stop moving on my back. ‘What’s hurting you Eren?’ His voice sounds… worried. Concerned. As much as I don’t want him to feel anything negative, there’s a selfish part of me that wishes he could be concerned about me. ‘What is it, what do you want me to do? What hurts?’

‘Th… The _fear_. I- can’t. Let go.’ I feel myself shaking strongly as I almost spit out the words from between my chattering teeth. ‘It won’t. Let go of m-me, sir. I know y… you’re good. Master never hurt. Me. B-but. That fear that- I- I’ll m-mess up. Th-that you hate me. You’ll be. Angry. It pa-par… Paral-lyses me.’ I’ve worked myself up again exposing my worst nightmares, and I’m gasping for air once more. ‘Even n-now, sir. Th- O-only fear. Y-y… You’re- I can s-see y-your- your outstretched ha-hand but I- your. Kindness. But I c-can’t. Sir. And I can’t… breathe. O-only. There’s… only fear.’

By now I’ve no control over my shaking whatsoever. I’m crying again, and just like few minutes ago I cover my mouth with my hand, willing to stifle those pitiful noises. I want master’s arms to crush me into fine dust to stop the agony. Or at least hold me firmly in place so I can’t move. But his hold remains gentle.

‘Tell me, Eren.’ His voice is strange again as he speaks. _Volatile_. ‘Tell me… _Why_ are you so scared of me?’

I whimper with each breath that I suck in from between my fingers.

Why?

My mind comes to a halt. How do I put it in words for him? And… Do I even know _what_ I’m trying to put into words? But my mind is quicker than my panicked, overanalysing mind. ‘Be-because… I- I’m not a good toy, s-sir. I… I’m worthless an-and bothersome and why would y-you not hate s-something like me.’

I feel his body go completely rigid against me for a moment. I’m not sure if he’s even breathing. Then his hands move from my back, holding my shoulders and gently pulling me away from his chest. I wince at the loss of warmth, but I obey, still sitting on his lap. His brow is furrowed, but his face isn’t exactly angled towards my own.

‘We need to put a stop to this, Eren.’ I feel sick. It’s either bile or my lungs crawling up my throat, doesn’t matter, but I’m going to be sick. It’s _over_. I _ruined_ it. _Everything_. ‘I wanted to take it more gradually, but. I guess I was wrong again.’ His voice is a bit more firm again. I listen, but I want nothing other than to run and hide. ‘I’ve heard enough of it; you calling yourself a thing. Or a dog. Or worthless. We’re putting an end to this.’ Staring at him wide-eyed, I’m completely clueless as to what he means. His right hand moves from my shoulder; he puts it on my thigh, open, palm up. Reluctantly, fear still controlling my every thought, I place my hand in his. My head is still spinning from the fact that I’m so close to master. ‘I’m going to say something, and I want you to repeat it back to me. Do you think you’ll be able to do that?’

I frown. That doesn’t sound overly hard, right? If I can just calm for one goddamn second, I’ll be able to focus and obey. ‘I- I think, sir? I’ll try, I- I’ll do my best.’

‘Good.’ He takes a breath. ‘I want you to say, _‘I’m human, and my emotions and feelings are valid’_ ’.

I sit there, dumbfounded, momentarily forgetting what breathing is. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in a while. ‘S-si…r? W-what?’

‘You heard me.’

Searching his face for any sign that this is some sort of a wicked, tasteless prank, I’m shocked to find none of such. ‘But- But that’s not tr-’

‘Eren.’ My mouth snaps shut. I’ll very gladly take further explanation on this. ‘I want you to hear yourself say it. My point here is to at least start putting these ideas in your head. Because your current convictions seem to be drastically different. And they’re wrong.’ He can’t be serious. ‘So I want you to say it back to me, Eren. _‘I’m human, and my emotions and feelings are valid’._ ’

Human? Valid?

 

_I can’t really tell how long it has been since Keith tied me to that table in this sickeningly lewd position, with no shred of decency. I’m completely naked, which that by itself isn’t really anything new. But the position, and knowing why I’m here, is what makes me want to vomit._

_The table in the punishment room came with countless hooks and cuffs so it wasn’t a challenge for Keith to drug me and then position me so that my behind is just at the edge of the table, with my legs bent and spread to the point of almost intolerable pain, with my ankles secured to the edges of the wooden surface. Arms pulled and secured with ropes to some hook behind my head and gag in mouth, I’m completely helpless. Yet again. And it’s not even a week since he had me suspended, pouring my own urine over me and making me drink Jean’s blood._

_As much as I hate it, I’m almost relieved when Keith comes back in and starts firmly hitting – not exactly whipping, at least not yet – my legs with a riding crop; at least some circulation has returned. ‘How is my little cunt toy? You remember why you’re here? Yes? Answer me, you mutt.’ I nod, it being the only thing I can do. ‘Good.’_

_As if anyone could forget. Especially when this other man – Nile, I think – lets in a whole line of other slaves, stripped naked too, everyone wearing ghostly expressions. Just how many times have some of them done it? I swallow hard. From what I can see in my limited view, straining my neck from the table, there must be at least ten of them. My breath hitches when I see Jean among them._

_Keith’s voice is poison to everyone’s ears. ‘Well then, let our little welcoming party begin. As you all know by now, we have a new friend in our team, Eren, here. So you’re all going to make him feel very welcome, like we always do. As usual, each of you will get a maximum of seven minutes with him, including getting yourself hard, right up to finishing inside him. If you don’t fuck him properly, you’ll get whipped to oblivion, and so will Eren.’ I can’t help but whimper, remembering the stories Jean told me he heard about a nine-year-old boy who was in the same position that I am now, a couple of years ago. No one agreed to penetrate him. All the slaves were whipped until the blood pouring down from their backs made the floor slippery and hard to stand for the rest of the punishment. The boy got punished too. Apparently, they were going to repeat the whole ordeal the following day, but the boy hung himself during the night with his bedsheets. No one dared to disobey since then. ‘You all get two turns; after the first one, you go back to the end of the line, and get ready for your next turn. All clear? Good. You may begin.’_

_It all really became a bit of a blur then. There was only pain and shame. Humiliation. And Keith’s disgusting words, ‘praising’ me for being a good hole to fuck, for spreading my legs wide open and taking cock after cock up my ass, like I was born to do._

_I couldn’t handle it when Jean got to the top of the line. I knew it was cruel; he hated this as much as I did, and now I was making it even more difficult for him. But I couldn’t take it. I started screaming my safe word through the gag. Keith allowed me to have it, saying he’ll consider easing off on me when I say it, and if the situation will be fitting._

_He didn’t. ‘Hm, what was that, slut?’ I screamed it again, and Jean was frozen in place. ‘I can’t hear you, bitch. And this gag isn’t coming off until all the boys here are done. These are the rules. So,’ His smile is so evil I feel my stomach churn. ‘Why don’t you tell me this afterwards? Now, Kirstein. Hurry it up. Your time is running out, you moron.’_

_Everything became a painful blur once more._

 

‘Eren, you still with me?’

I blink, mind reeling from the awful memory. I shake my head. How can he say this? How can he say I’m human, after all that Shadis made me do? What he reduced me to? He just doesn’t know. ‘I… I can’t, sir, I…’

‘You can, Eren. I know he put awful things and twisted ideas in your head. But I know you’re strong.’ He gives me a moment as he hears me trying to calm my breathing. Tears fall on his lap, on our joined hands. ‘We’ll start slow, okay?’

I nod my head, and then mentally slap myself. ‘Y-yeah.’

‘Good. Say the first part. ‘I’m human.’’

 _You little cunt toy._ ‘I…’ _You worthless mutt; you’re nothing but a piece of trash._ ‘I-I…’ _Spreading your legs like the slut you are. That’s the only thing you’re good for._ ‘I’m… I’m human.’

I gasp once the words are out, genuinely surprised that the world hasn’t crashed around my ears. ‘Very good, Eren. Very good.’ I could mewl at his words and the way his thumb caressed the top of my hand. ‘Will we try the whole thing? Come on, it’s okay. Give it a try.’

‘I’m… human…’

‘Good.’

‘…and… m-my…’ My own desperate voice, hoarse from crying, echoes in my head as I shout my safe word. My cry for help. Unanswered. He turned a blind eye to my begs, to my agony. No, worse than that; he looked me in the eye as I begged and cried. ‘M-my… em… emotions a-and… and m-my feelings…’ I find myself gasping.

‘Just a bit more, you’re doing well. Keep going.’

‘M-my emotions a-and my feelings… a-are… are valid.’

I’m shaking, crying, but I feel like I’ve pushed through a solid wall with my bare hands. I broke one of the countless chains that bind me.

‘Very good. I’m so proud of you, Eren.’ I want to thank him for the praise, for guiding me through it, for removing one of my shackles for… God knows what reason. But I’m too overcome with emotion, and soon master speaks himself. ‘Shall we continue?’

I jump up in surprise. ‘H-huh?’ That still is as much as I can say.

‘I’d like you to say… two more things. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I knew you couldn’t handle it. But you just proved how strong you are. This man has no more control over you. So we must leave him in the past, don’t we?’

The more he talks, the more I calm down, and the more pliable I become. How could I not agree to such supportive encouragements? ‘Yes… yes, sir.’ My own voice is nothing more than a whimper.

‘Very good.’ He gives my hand a light squeeze, which feels reassuring. ‘I want you to say, _‘I deserve to be treated with respect’_.’

The feeling in my chest almost resembles offence; how on earth could he possibly come up with something like _this_? This is even worse than the previous one! ‘N-no! C-can’t, I can’t!’

‘Eren. You said that about the previous one, remember? And then, how did it feel when you said it? Good?’

I stop trying to wriggle my hand out of his grasp, which I barely realised I was doing. ‘Y-yeah.’

‘Then think about how relieved you’ll be this time. Give it a go.’

My next words are not only an attempt at buying myself more time, but a genuine plea for an explanation. ‘Sir, but wha- why are you-’

‘Shh. For now, just say the words. _‘I, Eren J_ _äger, deserve to be treated with respect’_.’

Respect…?

 

_Humiliation. His absolutely favourite way of breaking me in. In all honesty, it was a wonder in itself to me – in a morbid sort of way – how he managed to come up with all these different ways of torture._

_This time, he had me in the punishment room again, on my knees with my hands chained behind my back. A fairly short leash connects my collar to a hook in the wall behind me. Keith is standing above me, making a show of putting on white latex gloves. I have a hard time guessing the reason, until the bastard squats down in front of me and says ‘Open your whore mouth.’_

_That’s the last thing I want to do, and my mouth is sealed. He looks as he expected just that, and before I know it, he forcibly pries my mouth open using brute strength, enough to shove a wire-like, sturdy metal structure behind my teeth that prevents me from moving my jaw up, keeping my mouth open. I want to be angry, but I can’t deny the fear that runs through my spine as he grabs my face with one gloved hand. Without any warning, he shoves two fingers of his other hand down my throat._

_I try to struggle, but his hold on me is painfully tight. My gag reflex kicks in immediately and I shout, trying to make my throat to relax. But as he keeps moving his fingers over the walls of my throat, with horror, I realise that he wants to make me vomit. My throat will not loosen, and soon, disgusting retching sounds erupt from my throat and echo around the room. By now, tears are freely running down my face. A few more drags of his fingers, and my body bends in half, bile and any remains of food that I had the privilege to eat for once rising fast up my oesophagus. Keith quickly withdraws his fingers and rips the strange metal contraption out of my mouth as I vomit the acidic, mostly digested pinkish slop on the floor. I’m shivering from the humiliating ordeal, but that bastard is far from done. I hear a zipper being undone; looking up, I see his cock as he starts jacking himself off in front of my face with his now bare hand. The sight itself makes me want to retch again._

_‘Open that mouth of yours and drink what I give you. Close it, and I’ll whip your upper back again.’ I shudder. The wounds that he left there just yesterday still hurt, without even being touched. I open my mouth. He’s a freak who gets off on torturing others, so it doesn’t take him long to finish and empty himself on my tongue and my face. Wanting nothing else but for this hell to be over, at least for today, I close my mouth, swallowing what was on my tongue. ‘Keep your mouth open, cunt.’_

_Frowning, I look up at him. He’s clearly softening, but he’s still holding himself in his hand and telling me to-_

_No._

_He must have seen realisation flash through my eyes as he laughs. ‘You’re not always that dense, then.’ I’m still silently crying as he starts to urinate in my mouth. The stench in the room is becoming unbearable. When my mouth is almost full, he forcibly closes it with this hand, while the last amounts of his urine land on the slowly spreading puddle of vomit. ‘Don’t you dare spit it out, you slut. Swallow it.’ His hand isn’t holding my mouth closed anymore, so technically I could spit it out. But I wouldn’t be able to bear another whipping. As the taste on my tongue becomes unbearable, I shut my eyes and swallow. Well, this has to be the end, doesn’t it?_

_‘Good bitch. Now. You made quite a mess, didn’t you?’ He stares down at me darkly. ‘Lick it all up.’ Now it is my turn to stare with unrestrained venom and shock. ‘I said, lick it all up. If you throw up again in the process like the filthy pig you are, you’re eating that too. You’re not leaving this room until the floor is clean.’_

 

‘Eren.’

I can still feel the acidic burn on my tongue.

‘ _Eren_.’

I keep sobbing. Master rubs my other arm. ‘O… okay. B-but- N. no... Is- You w-won’t… angry?’

‘Of course I won’t be angry. I _want_ you to say it. And I’ll just be sad if you won’t, but never angry.’

None of it. I understand none of it. Nothing makes sense. ‘B-but he a-always said-’

‘Don’t. Eren, don’t look back. You’re free from him. Focus on the now, focus on my voice. Have I ever deliberately hurt you?’

How could he ask that; he’s been doing the complete opposite since he entered that auction room. ‘O-of course n-not, sir.’

‘Then trust me enough to… to realise I won’t set you up for a failure. What I mean is, I won’t make you say something that would make me angry with you.’

 _Trust_. What a big word.

I try to exhale slowly through my quiet sobs. ‘O…kay… I’ll try, sir.’ His hand gives mine another reassuring squeeze. ‘I… E-Eren Jäger, deserve-’ I jolt at the word. I don’t deserve. I don’t deserve anything. But I have to say it. I won’t let him down. ‘I deserve t… to be treated with… w-with… with respect.’ The last word is basically a whimper. But it’s out. I’ve said it. My voice rings in my head. How could I have said something like this?

I look to master’s face and he looks pleased. _Pleased_. With such words. Just… how? ‘So good, Eren. You’re so good and strong. Thank you for saying that.’ Emotions which I can’t possibly identify throw my mind every which way and I’m barely holding myself in one piece. I’m pretty sure I’m about to physically fall apart. ‘Will we say one last thing? Since you’re doing so well. There’s another important thing I’d like you to say. To understand. Will you try?’

How can I possibly say no? ‘Y-yes, sir.’

‘Good.’ His voice is so… _warm_. I can feel my shivering fade for a moment. ‘I’d like you to say, _‘My life is as valuable as those of everyone else in this room’_.’

This is a profanation. Just short of heresy.

The strong shivers pick back up as I gasp and whip my head in the direction of the living room door so fast that I almost get a vertigo. Because of tears, I only see a blurry outline of her form. But she’s there, standing in the doorway. Silently. How could master even know she was there? I blink a few times to get a better look at miss Hanji’s face. I did not expect the hint of worry, the strange shine to her eyes, on her otherwise strangely stoic face. She gives me a small nod, her own way of reassurance. I turn back to master, hoping to see something similar in his face too.

‘It’s all right, Eren. Take your time. I know you can do it.’

‘B-but…’

‘There are no ‘buts’, Eren. We’ve already agreed that you’re human. You’re not an object. You have feelings and emotions. And they’re valid. We’ve agreed that you deserve to be treated with respect. So… why would your life not be as important as ours?’

This has to be a dream. But if it is… I’ll just go a long with it, won’t I? ‘O-o…okay…’ I’ve already said so much. ‘My life…’ I start, looking down to the slender thumb moving back and forth across my trembling hand. Now it’s my turn to squeeze harder. ‘M-my life is as- as valuable as of… as those of e-every… everyone else i-in this room.’

‘Well done, Eren.’ With these words going past his lips, an incredibly heavy weight on my shoulders alleviates. As it rises, everything that has been trapped underneath it flows free.

Master pulls me back under his chin just as the crying and sobbing _really_ start. I dump all bottled-up fear and anxiety on him. All my humiliation. Anguish. Agony. Pain. And he takes it all. He lets me cry desperately like a child, out loud until my throat goes hoarse and more, wetting the front of his shirt while clinging to it with both hands. And he just takes it, rubbing circles on my back, speaking quietly, reassuringly, but I feel like I only catch the half of his words. His breath tickles my ears. ‘So brave. So strong. I’m so proud of you. You’ve done so well, Eren.’ These words do nothing to stop my crying; quite on the contrary; they spur the tears on. But somehow, sadness isn’t the source. At least not the main. There’s a whole sea of emotions that are just overwhelming.

My master holds me through it all. Holds me so that I won’t fall apart into pieces.

As my crying slowly quietens down until all that’s left is sniffing, sporadic whimpers and sobs, master speaks again without releasing his hold. ‘Eren, I want you to do one last thing, okay? It’s easy, you just have to listen, okay?’

Listening. Yeah, I can do that. ‘Mhm.’

‘Good. I…’ He sighs above my head. ‘Well, honestly, I’m not great at words, you know? Don’t want to say something, and then you’ll take it the wrong way.’ I’m not following what he’s getting at, but I keep listening. ‘Huh, I’m starting to ramble. So I’m going to speak as plainly and clearly as I can. You’ve done a major step forward. And I’m very proud. I want you to realise that you’re not sub-human, you’re not beneath us. Despite all the things that abhorrent man told you, did to you, and made you do. So, for today, I want to put one final idea in your head. Since you’re on the same level as us… And yes, you are, Eren,’ He adds as he feels my body stiffen. ‘So since that’s the case, there’s no requirement for you to keep calling me ‘master’ or ‘sir’. Just by my name is fine. I know that this is what you’re used to, and that it’s a deeply-instilled habit. Just like your incorrect belief that you’re worthless. So I’m not saying that I _want_ you to stop calling me that. I’m not going to put pressure on you, so I’m simply saying it’s not a requirement, do you understand, Eren? If you’re not ready for that yet, keep calling me these things, but I’d be very happy if you’d make just a little bit of effort into getting rid of this habit. But whenever you’re ready.’

I soak up every word, shaken, still not understanding _why_.

‘Say Eren.’ A more cheerful voice rings out behind me and jumping up, I remember that miss Hanji is also in the room. ‘Maybe you could stop being all formal with me too and drop the whole ‘miss’ business, hm? With time. If you want.’

‘U-uh…’ Even my whimper sounds hoarse.

‘Hanji, I think we should give him a break, it was all a bit much. I’m sure he’s a bit shaken up, hmm, Eren?’

‘M…mmh.’

Master’s- Levi’s shoulders shake lightly with a brief laugh. ‘Can you get him a glass of water, maybe, Hanji?’

‘Oh, yeah, sure! That’s wise, probably.’

As I hear the woman leave the room, I decide to seize the opportunity to ask the most burning question. ‘S-sir?’ I gasp, realising my mistake. ‘S-sorry, I m-mea-’

‘Hm, what is it, Eren? What did you want to ask?’ _But whenever you’re ready_. My chest fills up with warmth and I smile.

‘All… all this, w- Why?’

After a few seconds of heavy silence, I feel him lower his head to my hair and… I could have _sworn_ he just kissed the top of my head. ‘I don’t want to see you scared and suffering. Cause you’re my friend.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I write another ~8k words in less than a week, I'll never know. *Abandoned uni notes scream from under the desk in reply*  
> A character we all love makes an appearance in the next chapter x3  
> (also here's a song that I actually listen to quite a lot when writing some of the sad scenes, it just got a nice eerie/melancholic flavour to it, check out if you want; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrpMncSZe-I)
> 
> EDIT: Just a quick note; the next chapter probably won't be up till the end of may or beginning of June; I have a bit of it written but I can't continue because of awful uni exams :C Sorry darlings T^T


	12. The Ache of Loss

As I sit on the couch with my back against its arm, my knees pulled up and a book against my thigh, the thoughts of the conversation two days ago rolling through my thoughts, the smell of hot chocolate spreading through the room from two mugs on the coffee table, I start to realise I’ve been wrong about the fundamentals all along. See, I thought I’ve been bought by and brought to a home of a blind man, an ex-physics professor. That was obviously not the case.

I’m in the house of an _angel_ , hand-picked by God himself.

What a childish thought. I briefly smile to myself at the light-heartedness of it. But it’s not too far from the truth, is it? This wonderful creature is now sitting with me, on the same couch, adjacent to me, leaning into the back of the soft seat. The setting sun creeping in through the window behind me makes him practically glow in front of my eyes as his fingers – these beautiful, gentle, and slender but strong fingers – dance across his own book. There’s a delightful, comfortable near-silence in the room, with the only sounds being our breathing, pages turning, the occasional shifting on the couch, or a Christmas song from the radio playing quietly in the kitchen. A few dust particles danced in the beam of light falling on us; residual from my cleaning a couple of hours ago when master – I mean… Levi – asked me to wipe off the dust in the living room and both of our rooms. _Asked_.

With a small amount of nervousness, I wriggle my toes under mas- Levi’s thigh. I could lie to myself and say that it was just for extra warmth, but that’d be stupid. I can’t fool my own mind; I just want to be in physical contact with him, even if so briefly. It scares me how much I crave it. And maybe, just maybe, I’m a _really_ terrible person and I’m _testing_ him, and whether he really meant when he said I’m his… friend. Because that’s not something even I can believe myself.

My body stiffens when I see his hand pause in its gentle caress across the paper. Shit. Wrong move, wasn’t it? Too early. Too forward.

I pretty much melt in relief when his right hand travels up my leg, from my foot to my knee, where it settles, and gives a few rubs there. It’s hard to conceal a whimper of pure delight, but somehow I manage. And just as the touch appeared, it’s gone, master Levi returning to his reading. But he makes no attempt to push my legs away, so we stay like that, the silence still light and not uncomfortable.

I don’t even make an attempt at continuing the book; I don’t even know where I am as the pages flipped and I didn’t put in a bookmark. If I could care less. All I want to do is to watch him. Watch how our bodies are in contact. Connected. So sweetly. So innocently. My heart swells with warmth as I watch his focused expression, facing forward, back straight. I spare a brief thought to wonder whether he can feel my gaze on him; I sure do hope not, because that would probably make him uncomfortable. But if he does, he never mentions it. So maybe he doesn’t. I’m disgusted with myself at the faintest feeling of relief that he can’t see me watching him. If he had his eyesight, I most likely wouldn’t have the privilege of observing him so intently on such regular basis. My conscience calls me a selfish evil bastard, but I quieten it down. I know very well that if it was possible, I’d give him one of my own eyes and pull him out of the darkness. So I keep watching him. I smile at his small frame. So quiet. So _inconspicuous_. Perhaps even off-putting to some who don’t know him and would take his stoic, disinterested demeanour personally and as a sign of foul personality. And yet, he’s got the purest heart anyone could ever hope to come across.

My thoughts trail back to the fears I had when lying in that small cell, my backside and insides still burning from boiling water, days before I was put on that sale. I remember what I feared about this slavery. Chains. Gags. Blindfolds. All types of physical and mental binds to leave me helpless and scared, kept forcibly ready for all sorts of twisted pleasures for the man who’d buy me. But master Levi is nothing like what I expected, and it still keeps throwing me off guard. Instead of putting binds on me, he takes them off me, freeing me from my past. He could have had me every which way he wanted and it would be his every right to do so, and I wouldn’t oppose. But he still hasn’t. He admitted himself that he didn’t touch me because he didn’t want to make me uncomfortable.

What a revelation that was. Up until now I’ve been cleaning myself thoroughly every morning and evening, which involved an enema as well – with a plastic bottle with a narrow tip as I have no proper bag. I shudder, feeling filthy and disgusting. I never wanted to risk it though; the way Keith whipped me after I didn’t clean myself before a client is not something I’ll ever forget; I couldn’t get up from the floor for hours. And so, after discovering that my new master is a bit of a clean freak, I never wanted to find out what kind of rage _he_ would unleash upon me if I wasn’t clean. So, day after day, week after week, I’d keep myself clean and ready for whenever he’d want to take me. I waited. And waited. And it was only two days ago that I finally found out why my waiting was pointless. So, going against my self-preservation instincts, I took a _normal_ shower. Yesterday and today. _Just_ a shower. And with awe, I realise that the world is still standing. I’m not being whipped within an inch of my life, and the man who has given me everything still lets me stuff my toes underneath his thighs for comfort.

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling blissfully safe. If I focus hard enough, I can still feel the lingering warmth of his hand on my knee. Something close to a snicker forms on my lips; it was such a brief and somewhat awkward touch. He definitely isn’t a cuddler. Not that he’d ever want to cuddle with me, of course. I’m not assuming that. It just seems as if showering someone with affectionate touches wouldn’t be his natural and favourite thing to do, which makes me even more grateful for what he did for me two days ago as he held me. And somehow, it just makes him even more endearing. This little man with his ‘I’ll fight anyone for a toilet paper roll’ attitude, default disinterested expression and voice; almost as if he wants people to believe he is a bitter old fart. As if he doesn’t want anyone to know he cares. About anything or anyone. Is it his defensive mechanism? Because caring for those students has left him blind? Or was he always like this? Whatever it is, it makes me feel as if I’m being let into some profound secret; Professor Levi Ackerman really _does_ have a heart, he _does_ care, and when the full moon is out and the temperature is right, some legends say he’s even capable of genuinely _smiling_.

‘Eren.’

‘U-uh, yes?’

‘What are you all giggling about? Wanna share?’ He doesn’t sound accusatory at all, but I still feel like I’ve just been caught red-handed on something awful. Crap, I never realised I made a noise.

‘Oh… uh… It’s a- uh, the book I’m reading.’ Well, that was so _not_ smooth. Why am I even lying to him? Well, probably because me voicing the existence of his soft side would earn me a slap or twenty.

‘Which one are you reading?’

‘It’s… um…’ I look down at the cover, already knowing the depressing title that will mock me. _‘”Voices from Chernobyl”_ ’… A truly tragic collection of accounts by Russians who survived the Chernobyl disaster and its aftermaths. A title mast- Levi recommended, as an interesting insight into what happens when physics isn’t treated with enough _caution and respect_ , as he put it. Not a great excuse for my current situation.

I already know what his next words are going to be. ‘And that’s a funny story to you?’ Somehow, there is no anger in his voice, only just a hint of teasing, despite knowing that I’m flat-out lying. That just makes me want to be honest with him, though still being weary of the consequences.

‘O-okay, well… I was just thinking t-that. Um. It’s kind of. Sweet. How you seem to be, like. Always grumpy. And stuff. But you’re a really caring person. O-on the inside. Didn’t want to tell you cause- thought you might get a-angry. If I thought it was cute.’ I speak slowly, making a conscious attempt to stop my usual stuttering.

I watch his face for some reaction. There’s a tiny battle on his features, as if he doesn’t know whether to be angry, surprised, or whatever else was there in that mix. He opens his mouth and takes a breath, ready to say something, but backs out in the last moment. After a while of furrowing his brow, he finally concludes with a ‘You’re right. I’m not cute. You brat.’ Whatever I expected him to say, that wasn’t it, and a grin splits my face. A genuine, happy grin that makes me feel all warm and happy inside. _Happy_? Is this even possible? Before I can dwell too much on my new-found emotion or perhaps say something else, ma- gooddammit, _Levi_ , speaks again. ‘Oi. That friend of yours. Jean, was it?’

‘Y-yeah?’ Nervousness makes me stutter again, over just a single word. But sure, in my defence, this was an unexpected question.

‘Tell me more about him. Is he tolerable?’

My shoulders tense and I bring my fists closer to my chest. My toes curl and I withdraw them, trying to make myself as small as possible again. I don’t like where this is going. Granted, I don’t know where it’s going, but I don’t like it anyway. ‘I- he- um… He can be a bit… Rough around. The edges.’ I try to speak slowly again, but my anxiety isn’t helping. ‘Can have a. Foul mouth. Sometimes. A-Apparently, he used to be worse b-but. Keith beat him into submission. L-like all of us.’ I take a steadying breath. ‘B-but other than that, he. He’s a good person. S-scraped me off the floor and. And helped with m-my tearing, n-not long before you bought me.’ I watch him, waiting for some sort of reply, but he seems to be thinking my words over. Or maybe he didn’t pay attention at all. ‘M-may I ask-? Why you w-want to know? About Jean?’

The silence in the room is so heavy that I can feel it weighing on my shoulders and crushing me. Master’s voice startles me. ‘I was thinking about having him over for a night.’

Time freezes. I’m not breathing, and I realise that only when my body forcefully draws in a shaky gasp to stop me from passing out. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets as I stare at the man who said these mad words as if there was nothing wrong with them. Why in God’s name does he want to have Jean over? If he wants to relieve his sexual urges, goddammit, I’m right here! Of course. He doesn’t like me. He never touched me, so he won’t start now. But- but didn’t he say something along the lines of caring about me? Oh, is that why he won’t touch me? But why does he want my _friend_ to pleasure him? If he cares about my mental state, does he not realise how much that’ll break me? Did he lie to me? God, he lied to me. He spoon-fed me all that crap about caring for me, wanting me to get better, to trust him, and I ate it all up! I fell for it, it was his plan all along, just so that it’ll hurt more when he breaks me, I can’t-

‘Eren.’

I only now realise I’m panting, and since it’s been brought to attention, I try to calm my breathing. ‘W-why?’ The heartbreak and betrayal in my voice is way too evident for my liking.

Master eyebrows furrow and he’s got the audacity to look innocently confused. ‘Don’t you wanna see him?’

‘Why!’ I repeat the vague question, this time more determined. Or desperate; that’s probably a more fitting word. ‘W-why won’t you just have _me_? You paid for me, didn’t you? Maybe- maybe you don’t like me, but I’m good at… at that stuff! Why do you want to bring J-Jean into this?! I- I can satisfy you, I-I swear! Just. Just give me a chance!’

The only reaction I get for a while is an even deeper frown and a grimace on the man’s face as he’s still facing forward. I’m dreading his response; after all, I did just, essentially, pretty much, shouted at my owner. How smart. ‘Eren, is that- What? This is what you think I’m planning on doing? Bringing your friend over so I can rape him into the next fucking dimension and force you to watch?’ His voice is disbelieving, and his words sum up my expectations quite harshly, but then again; is that not what he meant? What else could he mean? I don’t understand his tone. ‘Is that what you think of me?’ So… that wasn’t what he meant in the end?

My head is spinning from adrenaline and now, apparently guilt? That I suspected something so atrocious of him? Nothing makes sense to me, and I feel like a total dumbass, as if I’m missing something very obvious. ‘M-master. Sir. I… I don’t understand.’ My voice is weak and quiet with uncertainty as I plead for an explanation.

With some minor relief, I watch his expression soften as he sighs heavily. ‘You’ve got it wrong. Mad wrong.’ Embarrassment burns my cheeks, but a flicker of fear lingers. What if what’s really on his mind is even worse? Unlikely, but it’s a possibility. ‘Just wanted to bring him here, let him have a night off, let you guys catch up. Get some warm food into him. No sex, I wouldn’t touch him. He’d sleep in your room.’

The intensity of conflicting emotions whirling in my head makes me want to throw up from a vertigo-like feeling that I get a lot of in this place. Just… what? I… I have no idea what he- Just, what? ‘U-uh? W… what? Why would-’ It’s difficult to collect my thoughts, and even more to find my voice. ‘Why would you d-do that?’

He sighs again and his head cocks to the side a bit, towards me. ‘Well… You said he probably has it rough, it being winter and all, in particular. He probably wouldn’t mind having a night of sleep, even changing the scenery a bit. Breathe some fresh air. Sleep in a warm bed. I thought you’d want to see him, too. You said you were lonely… and since you seemed worried about him before.’

‘I-I… I was! I-I am worried! I-it’s just… _Why_ would you do that? I mean- What I mean is- Keith won’t just. Send him on a vacation, like. Y-you have to pay for renting someone for the night.’

He scoffs. ‘No shit, Sherlock. Nice picture you have of me there; ruthless _and_ dumb.’

I gasp. ‘N-no! I didn’t mean i-it like that, I-!’

‘Calm down. I’m just pulling your leg. So any idea how much Keith takes for… _renting_ someone for a night, as you put it?’

‘I’m… not sure. Probably a few thousands, and. And a deposit. I-I think I’ve overheard someone saying h-he also takes your phone number, i-in case you don’t bring a slave back. They’d go to the police station and make them track you. O-or something.’ His only response is a hum of acknowledgement. ‘S-so. _Why_? Why on earth would you pay so much money if… if you’re not even going to get anything from it?’ My voice is hesitant, as I’m still disbelieving as to whether I actually heard him right. 

‘Alright, well.’ He sighs again. ‘I’m not rich or anything, brat. But I do have enough money to get by more than comfortably enough. The flat is mine, so I don’t pay rent. It’s not large, so the bills aren’t massive. Got a solid amount of money from the insurance company after the accident, which I left almost untouched for a while. Turned out to be useful when I paid for you.’ I blush again, feeling strangely but genuinely guilty that he wasted his money on me. ‘Have some savings from years ago, after my family.’ Levi pauses for a moment. ‘On top of that, families of the university kids pulled some fucking pity charity fund and made me take money as a way of thanking me for saving the brats or whatever. Sent it to the university, who then sent it to my bank account so I couldn’t refuse, the sneaky bastards. And the pay for my current job isn’t bad, even if the job itself is shitty.’ He takes a breath after such a long monologue, and I hope he’ll continue. For one, I want to know as much as I can about his motives, or really, anything more about him. But also, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to just keep hearing his voice which soothes my anxiety as always, making my fists unclench and my shoulders drop. ‘So finances aren’t a thing I really have to worry about. Put a significant amount into savings every month. But sure, it’s bullshit hoarding money like that. I don’t have a family to provide for, no kids to send off to college and no sick relatives that need my help. Fancy holidays aren’t my thing, so really, I have money, but stupidly, not much to spend it on. Doesn’t mean I’m trying to desperately get rid of it; it just means that I won’t mind spending some of it, now and again.’

Conflicted and confused doesn’t begin to cover it. I am absolutely… no, I don’t even have a good word. Wait, so- This isn’t some weird prank? ‘So… You really meant it? With… With Jean?’

He shrugs. ‘Yeah. Talked to Hanji ‘bout it and she said she’s got a day off day after tomorrow. So we could go get your friend tomorrow evening, and bring him back the following morning.’ Holy shit. This isn’t a prank. He actually thought it out. This is real. And apparently, it’s happening tomorrow?! ‘This okay with you?’

The room fills with light, the air is cleansed and I can breathe with ease once more as Levi gives me the briefest, smallest smile; the sun can just go and hide forever, because it’s being put to shame effortlessly by a single man. Somewhere in my awe-filled moment of delight, I manage to gasp out a ‘yes!’, probably louder than I should have. But it doesn’t matter. The man doesn’t seem to mind as he returns to his book as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just offer to throw away a large sum of money for practically nothing.

I was wrong again; he’s not an angel at all. He must be a _god_.

 

 

‘Isn’t that like, the third time you’re scrubbing this floor?’ Levi’s voice makes me jump up and nearly knock my head into the table as I crawl on the floor with a wet rag. It’s probably the fourth time, actually, but I don’t correct him. The night took forever to pass and now that I don’t have to worry about not making noise and waking Levi up; I’m physically incapable of sitting still and idly waiting for the evening to come.

‘I… Yes, I- Just wanted to make sure it’s- it’s all super clean, you know, i-if we have a guest-’ I freeze up, mulling over my words. What I’ve just implied is that Jean, a slave, on the same level as me, deserves to be welcomed in a lovely, perfectly-cleaned and neat environment, as if he’s someone important to Levi. As if anyone on our level is important. So, by association, as if _I’m_ important. As if either of us is worth anything, as if by our status, we don’t deserve to be brought into a filthy pigpen and expected to be thankful for it. Fuck. But master never seemed to think of me so lowly, right? He doesn’t seem to like when I talk about myself in a derogatory manner either, right? Double fuck. My head immediately starts to hurt, and it’s got nothing to do with the fumes from the cleaning agents, and everything to do with the way my own thoughts are eating me alive. ‘I mean…’ I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, or how to get out of this situation. Or if there’s even a situation here to begin with. I’m going to give myself a stroke.

The man’s expression is unreadable, but after a moment, he concludes his obviously intense thought process with a simple ‘Alright.’ He feels his way around the table and takes a seat in his usual spot. ‘I was thinking, you know… Oh, but first of all, what’s your friend’s full name? So that I don’t pick up some other Jean.’

I huff a soft laugh, the strange and unfamiliar bubbly feeling of excitement returning, even if dulled by the little heart attack I just had. ‘Jean Kirstein.’

‘Kirstein. Okay.’ Levi repeats to himself. ‘And you need to help me out with another thing. It’ll be Hanji who’ll go in there and get him, so help me come up with an excuse as to why she’d want to pick up _him_ in particular. Something that’d appeal to that sadistic turd. Cause something tells me he wouldn’t be on board with sending anyone on a vacation, just like that? Correct me if I’m wrong.’

I shudder. ‘N-no, no, of course. You’re right. He’s… He’s a sadist to the most extreme standards, he…’ It’s really hard to keep the rushing flashbacks at bay. ‘He’s. He _strives_ on pain of others. So, no, no, he wouldn’t go along with your plan…’ I mumble to myself, mind working on a reasonable excuse as to why Hanji would actually know Jean and would be hell-bent on renting him. Now, focus Eren. You just have to get into the mind of that psychopath, you have to think like one. You’ve seen and _experienced_ enough horrors at that man’s hand, so it shouldn’t be hard… right? ‘Huh, um. What if- No. No. But maybe, maybe Hanji could say, um, without going into much detail, that… That you wanted t-two slaves to… pleasure you, and- and you wanted to have someone I’d c-cooperate with, so- Maybe she could say that I, um, behaved well s-so as a reward you’d… you’d let me choose w-whom you’d take. As the second s-slave.’

By the time I finish talking, my words are nothing but mumbles and I’m left wondering whether Levi even heard the last of it, but the way he rubs his hand over his face and sighs heavily might be an indication. ‘Uh. Oh my God. How am I even gonna tell Hanji that.’ He murmurs in a mortified voice into his hand, and that somehow snaps the tension in half and gets me to choke out a laugh. ‘Alright. When you’re done here, come to my room; I’ve got some extra pillows and a duvet and some linens.’ He says as he pushes himself up and heads to his room. ‘Oh, and obviously, make a larger dinner for tonight, yeah? Hanji will be staying over, too.’

‘Yes, s-! Y-yes, I’ll do that.’ I cringe. It’s way too easy to fall into the usual habit of ‘yes, sir’ and ‘yes, master’ whenever given an order, or even spoken to in an imperative context. But Levi doesn’t comment on it, just nodding and heading off.

It’s okay. He’s given me time, and I’m making progress. It’s okay.

 

 

After what seems like forever, the sky outside finally darkens, followed by Hanji’s arrival. I try my best to keep my cool, but it really is hard. For a moment I’ve wondered at how strange it is for me to be so excited about seeing horseface again; but I suppose after weeks and weeks of seeing only two people around whom I’m still far from being fully comfortable, it’s understandable enough to look forward to meeting up with a person I know, despite their neighing. And truth be told, as much as Jean and I bicker over nothing, he really is a good friend. What I’ve told Levi yesterday wasn’t a lie.

As we get dressed and ready to go, Levi explains Hanji what she’s supposed to be saying and we all cringe at the awful excuse I came up with, but no one comments. I want to protest when the man wraps the now familiar beige scarf around my neck while he only pulls up his jacket zipper high, but I don’t really get a chance as he keeps talking over me, saying something to Hanji. A thought crosses my mind that perhaps it’s on purpose.

Once my collar is switched off and a blanket is grabbed we head to the car, where Levi sits in the back seat with me. Slowly but surely, excitement gives way to anxiety. This feels all too familiar; I remember sitting here with the man beside me. I remember the fear, the terror, so tangible and heavy I could taste it in my mouth and feel it pressing on my chest. I realise I’m holding the same blanket that I was wrapped in myself on the night I’ve been bought; and while this is a random, unimportant fact, it triggers more flashbacks. The whole room. Being naked and exposed and restrained. Dimo Reeves.

But Levi’s here, within an arm’s reach. And this time, his presence is comforting rather than intimidating and terrifying. Time, the most experienced teacher, showed me that this man doesn’t want to hurt me, and that I don’t have to fear the flashbacks, because they’ll never take real form again. He won’t let them. And that’s what I focus my thoughts on. Even if I don’t believe it fully, that’s the only thing I allow myself to think about when we finally arrive at our dreaded destination, parking in the back, near the bins. Everything is dark and dreary and I want nothing but to curl into Levi’s side once Hanji’s gone. Naturally, it remains nothing but a wish. As time passes at an agonizing pace, my mind starts to wander and I end up asking master why the woman seems to be perfectly on board with all these crazy ideas; how does she not mind being so involved with everything surrounding me? The answer I get is definitely much more innocent and not at all what I expected; apparently, Hanji’s been dying for a movie night with her favourite cranky physicist, and so she agreed to help out with getting Jean in exchange for that. I don’t question the paradox of a blind man having a movie night; perhaps it’s movies he knows and will be able to enjoy them just by listening to them. Neither do I ask why Levi didn’t go with his friend to get Jean. Maybe he’s not bothered. Or maybe he doesn’t want to leave me alone in the car because he doesn’t trust me, and I’m not sure I want to hear that, so I don’t ask. I frown, being able to feel the steam coming out of my ears from the way my mind screws itself over and over. Again.

I nearly jump out of my own skin when I pick up on the distant but familiar voice. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s definitely him. It’s Jean.

‘Mas-! Levi! C-Can I?!’ My hand is already on the handle and I hope the man understands, because I really don’t have the time to explain. Once he gives me a nod, that’s it; I’m off so fast I nearly trip over my feet and my leash. ‘Jean!’

In the distance, I can see Hanji slightly surprised, probably at the sight of me out of the car. But it can’t compare with the absolute dumbfounded look on my friend’s face, which briefly makes me wonder whether Hanji told him anything. She leads him on a thin chain leash shining under the streetlights, but he seems to have almost forgotten it as he starts walking faster, slightly off balance because of the way his arms must be restrained behind him. As happy I am to see him, I can’t help but cringe at his naked body, shivering in the frosty air as his cloudy breath escapes his lips in heavy pants.

‘E…Eren?’ His eyes almost pop out of their sockets as they finally reach us and he stands in front of me. ‘W- What? Eren? Wha-?’ I can’t possibly imagine how confused he must be; he’s just been rented for a night, but instead he sees me, clean and clothed, yet still with a collar and a leash hanging from it. Maybe he fears I’ve betrayed him; became like my owners, and am about to join them in abusing him.

‘Hey. Horseface. It’s okay.’ I try to give him a reassuring smile as I put my hand on his shoulder, managing to hide my frown at how cold his skin is. Behind him, Hanji undoes the restraints on his hands. ‘You’re safe, man. I promise.’

He doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest. ‘Wh… What the- What is going on, E- What the hell, Eren?!’ Behind me, I can hear the car door opening and closing; the look in Jean’s eyes at the sight of Levi is close to one of hysteria. Two strangers that, to his knowledge, have just bought him to abuse him all night long, and then his friend mingled somehow into the mix for no apparent reason.

‘Calm down, Jean. No one’s gonna hurt you, okay? They-’

‘Oi.’ Levi’s voice makes me stop mid-sentence and face him; he’s leaning against the car, holding out the folded blanket in my general direction.

‘Oh! Yes, forgot! Thank you, L-Levi.’ I take the blanket from him, recalling the man’s previous instruction to still call him just by his name, even in Jean’s presence. I turn back to face him, and he’s standing there, still in shock, with his jaw hanging open. ‘Careful there, mustang. Don’t catch flies in your teeth.’ I try to desperately lighten the mood as I wrap the blanket around his trembling shoulders. He instinctively grabs the edges and pulls it tighter around himself.

‘W-what do you want from me?’ His desperate whine echoes around the parking lot. My heart breaks a little; it was only on a few rare occasions that I’ve seen Jean this panicked. He always had too much pride to show his weakness; we were kind of similar in that sense.

‘Don’t be scared, Jean.’ This time it’s Hanji who tries to offer comfort. ‘Like Eren said, you’re safe. No one’s gonna touch you. We’re just gonna get you some warm food and some clothes for the night, how does that sound?’

Apparently, he manages to reign his fear enough to scoff in disbelief. ‘So what, you’re j-just. Taking me out for a little trip, a little spa? Some random holiday shit, is that it? And I’m supposed to believe that?’ I can hear his voice shaking, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by me how he fights his instinct to bow his head down in submission. He wants to be angry to keep the panic at bay. And I understand that.

‘Jean, I promise. I… on Mikasa. I promise, they’re good people, okay? Just-’

‘Oi. Kirstein.’ The low voice once more demands everyone’s attention. ‘Just get in the car. Before all shit freezes in our asses.’

He doesn’t say anything else as he feels his way around the car and hops into the front passenger seat. I smirk at that weird sense of humour of his, but with the corner of my eye I see Jean’s even more confused expression. I offer him a shrug and what is hopefully another somewhat comforting smile and lead him to the car.

 

 

The drive back to Levi’s flat is filled with silence and tension, just as I remember it being when it was me who was naked, wrapped in a blanket, and with a chain hanging off my neck. I feel like I should offer Jean some more explanations, but at the same time I doubt their point. They’re just words, and probably won’t do much to calm his nerves. What he needs is solid proof, a warm meal, and a bed to sleep in in a room away from Levi and Hanji. Who am I to judge anyway; it’s been over two months since the man bought me, and although I’m making progress I’m still fearful of him, having my own doubts.

No one says a word when Hanji parks by the apartment blocks and we all get out of the car. Levi takes out his cane and leads the way with his friend walking behind the two of us. I watch realisation and even more shock pass over Jean’s face at my owner’s disability, and I’m eternally thankful to the high heavens that horseface didn’t ruin everything with some rude, thoughtless remark. Not yet, anyway.

The silence gets unbearable when we walk inside the apartment, so I break it as Levi activates my collar again. ‘Should I heat up the dinner? I made green chicken curry.’ I know the man really enjoys my curry in particular, so making his favourite meal was the least I could do to thank him for bringing my friend over.

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Come on, _my little pony_ , let’s get you some clothes and you’ll help me with dinner.’ Dragging him towards my room I think I can hear a quiet murmur along the lines of _‘The fuck, J_ _äger.’_ , which makes me smile.

 

 

‘You know what, Jäger…’ Jean’s voice is still somewhat _shook_ as he washes the rice before throwing it in the pot. He looks so different like this. In _clothes_. ‘I know you’re the type to get involved in the wildest, craziest shit but this has got to top the cake. Like… Where do I even begin?’

I snort. If that isn’t the most accurate description of my life, then I don’t know what is. ‘Wanna try being a bit more specific?’

‘Well, maybe the fact that I’ve just been rented for the night for the first time, and not by one but two people, who force me to play house for whatever fucking reason – like, is that some weird kind of foreplay? And then, _you’re_ mixed in with all of this. What am I even supposed to think?’

In all honesty, I’m not surprised by his words at all. You can’t just erase trauma with a few comforting words and a warm set of clothes; my entire stay with Levi to date is a proof of that. I can only sigh. ‘The power of my _I-told-you-so_ tomorrow morning is gonna be so great it’ll launch you into outer space.’

I only get a scoff in response as I slowly heat the stir fry. Levi’s and Hanji’s voices can be heard from behind the man’s bedroom door; they seem to be just talking, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It takes a while until Jean speaks again. ‘So… Which one of them’s actually your owner?’

‘Levi. Or, professor Levi Ackerman, if you will.’ A genuine smile tugs at my lips at the mental image of the man’s face whenever he talks about his beloved field. ‘He used to lecture in a university. He’s like, super smart, he’s got-’

‘Well, shit.’ I almost miss his murmur.

‘Huh?’

‘That’s just my luck, ain’t it. Means that it’s also him who rented me, yeah?’

‘And what about it?’

‘Was kinda hoping it was the overly-happy woman. That guy… He kinda looks like… like he could rip someone to shreds without breaking a sweat if they don’t do as they’re told.’ He visibly shivers, but his expression is one of anger. ‘I-is he really rough when… you know? Got any tips for me? Like, you know… What he likes and stuff.’

As much as I try to remain patient, it’s beginning to turn difficult; he’s just not listening, everything is literally bouncing off of him. I can feel frustration rising up, until I realise that this is the exact same type of behaviour Levi was faced with on a daily basis for _months_. ‘Well… I wouldn’t know. He never- never forced himself on me. Like, ever.’ The words sound crazy to my own ears, so I’m sure that to him, they must be downright bizarre.

‘Yeah, so you just expect me to believe that he bought you as a chess buddy, yeah?’ I don’t point out how stupid his accusation is, considering the man’s disability. ‘Just help me out here a bit and give me some pointers?’

I sigh once more, deciding I could give him some general guidance, like a _‘Dealing with Levi Ackerman 101: Intro’_. ‘Just… don’t talk too much, maybe. Like, don’t ramble on senselessly.’ He gives me a glare. ‘Uh, just be polite, I guess.’

Jean scoffs. ‘Polite. As I’m getting fucked into the mattress. Wow, that’s rich.’

 

 

I feel that by the time dinner is ready and we’re all seated at the table – with Levi sitting at his usual spot at the head of the table, me on his right side as always, Hanji on his left, and Jean sitting beside me – horseface is continuously growing confused at the current situation. More specifically, at the fact that he’s just been given a full plate of steaming hot food instead of being tied up to a bed – which he’s still expecting, I’m sure. His eyes are basically sparkling, and I can see the urge on his face to practically inhale the food along with the plate and cutlery. He’s the last one to pick up his fork and I give him a silent nod of encouragement as he looks utterly lost; the fork feeling slightly odd in his hand, no doubt. I don’t really remember a time when Keith would let us use cutlery. It was all stale bread, left overs, dry crackers; finger food. And if it wasn’t finger food, we had to make it into one.

‘S-so, ma’a- Hanji.’ I speak up shyly, wanting to break the silence which remains awkward despite the sounds of forks against porcelain plates. ‘Y-you’re staying over for a movie night?’

A wide smile splits her face; sometimes I wonder if she’s capable of talking about relatively neutral topics with a calm expression. ‘Oh yeah! Levi won’t be able to delay it this time, ha!’ She elbows the man playfully, but he doesn’t play along and if his eyes could see, I would have described his expression as downright _glaring_ at his plate in silence, which makes me shiver. It doesn’t seem as if he’s in a very good mood. ‘You guys can join too, if yous want! But, you know, don’t feel obliged or anything; I’m sure you probably want to catch up and chat for hours on end, too.’

As discreetly as possible, I glance at master, but don’t see him either agreeing to Hanji’s words or not; he doesn’t react at all. This isn’t good. ‘T-thank you, m- Hanji.’

‘We’ll be up until around midnight.’ Master’s monotone voice is unexpected and it makes me almost jump up in my seat. ‘Yous can go sleep whenever, just don’t make too much noise after twelve.’

‘Y-yes, sir.’ It’s out before I can stop it, and I wince. I see master grimace, too. Feeling guilty, I try to justify it to myself as fear of his bad mood. Glancing at Jean, I see that he’s frowning too, but his expression is full of confusion. He’s probably still wondering how servicing master Levi is going to fit into the schedule just presented.

A few more bites pass in silence before I hear Jean mumble out an ‘Um…’ before very quietly clearing his throat. Anxiety skyrocketing and stomach twisting, I can only hope that horseface thought it through at least twenty times before he decided to speak; whatever it is. ‘Master Ackerman, i-if I may-’

‘Levi.’

‘Oh? O-oh, sorry. Master Levi-’

‘ _Levi_.’ I curl in on myself at his cold voice as I try to come up with an idea as to why he seems to be in such a foul mood. What set him off? God, did _I_ do something? _Am_ I doing something wrong _right now_ , and I’m not aware of it?

Jean’s shock leaves him silent for a moment, but then he tries again. ‘If I… If I may, I- just. Wanted to thank you for your extensive kindness, f-for the meal, and allowing me t-to wear clothes.’ My shoulders drop slightly in relief. That’s probably not so bad. ‘W-whatever you’ll demand of me, I-I’ll fulfil it with gratitude.’

My heart skips a beat. Fuck. Jean, _fuck no_. You literally couldn’t have said anything worse than that, _you stupid-ass donkey_. I watch master clench his fist where it rests on the table, and I silently pray that he’ll contain his distaste and maybe just take out the anger on _me_ later instead. Jean might be an ass for saying that, but he had no idea how much that kind of talk irks the man, how much he doesn’t even want to hear about these things. He couldn’t have known, especially since he’s convinced that this is what awaits him here.

‘It’s alright, kid.’ His still icy, detached tone pulls me out of my thoughts. I look at his now relaxed hand on the table, and breathing becomes a bit easier again.

The tension that follows could be cut with a knife. Or maybe a hammer would be needed here. Unsurprisingly, Hanji comes to the rescue. ‘How do you like the food anyway, Jean? We’re both massive fans of Eren’s curry here. The guy could open his own restaurant, he got so good at it.’ She winks at me and I blush at the praise, even though she’s exaggerating.

‘Ah, m-me too. I mean, I like curry. I mean, I never had it before, b-but I had a friend who kept telling me ‘bout how he wanted to open a, um, a Thai food place.’

Apparently sensing that Jean is opening up a bit to her, Hanji continues on with the topic. ‘Awesome! So did he get around to doing it?’

‘Hm? Oh, no, no… He’s a slave too, and he- he was bought some time ago, so I don’t think he’ll ever get a chance to do it.’ Jean adds sadly as he swirls around the last piece of chicken with his fork across the plate, picking up as much sauce as he can.

I should have stayed silent then. I should have predicted the impending doom. But, the thing is, my name is Eren fucking Jäger, which means I don’t think before I speak. ‘Oh, really? Who was that? Thomas?’

‘No, Marco.’

The sound of my fork falling and clattering against my mostly empty plate is deafening, and seems to silence even everyone’s heartbeats and breathing. Few rice grains are sent flying across the table. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick.

‘Eren…?’ Jean’s voice is so volatile and confused, I can barely take it. It doesn’t take long for something close to realisation mixed with terror to pass over his face. ‘D-do you know anything about Marco?’

Of course he’d ask. Of course he would. Fuck. ‘W-what? Noo. H-hah, why would you think that?’ It’s not gonna work. I know it’s not gonna work. I’ve been told by everyone since always that I’m a terrible liar. Apparently, the tips of my ears go red if I try to lie.

‘Eren, tell me what you know.’ His pleading is nothing more than a whisper.

‘Jean, you don’t w-’

‘ _Please_.’

I keep my eyes on my plate, too scared to look at Jean’s face, or Hanji’s or Levi’s, for that matter. Somewhere below the rushing depths of grief, there’s a feeling of awkwardness and something akin to guilt – again – as the two are being dragged into a depressing conversation that has nothing to do with them. ‘He…’ I take a slow breath to prevent my voice from shaking. ‘Marco contracted… some disease, not long before I was bought. Apparently. He… His owner wanted a new slave; I overheard him saying that to Keith. H-he was gonna buy me, b-but then Levi and Hanji showed up.’ I swallow, wishing I could die instead of having to say these words to Jean. ‘M-Marco is dead.’ My eyes well up with tears and it takes me a few moments to find my voice again. ‘I’m… I’m sorry, Jean.’

No one says a word. I would dare say that no one even _breathes_. I finally dare to look at Jean, and I regret it the minute I do. His hand is covering his mouth, his eyes are wide open in mortification, and his face is the colour of ash. He looks like he’s going to be sick, or pass out; in either case, it would probably be best to get him out of the room. I turn to master.

‘S-sir…’ I wince, having fucked up again. Not a good thing when I’m trying to ask something of him. ‘I-I’m sorry… May we be excused f-from the table?’

His face is expressionless. ‘Yeah. Go.’

‘T-thank you, sir. I’ll clean up the dishes in a minute, i-if that’s alright.’

I stand up, turning to Jean to help him to his feet as he seems too shocked to even move. Slightly wary of even touching him, I lead him to my room and get him to sit on the edge of the bed. He’s hunched over, still covering his mouth with his hand, but he doesn’t cry. His eyes are wide open with emptiness and grief, and I have no idea how to comfort him. I figure putting a hand on his shoulder could be worth a try. ‘Don’t touch me. Please.’ The anger and pain and emptiness in his voice make me jerk my arm back quickly. As much as I grieve Marco’s death myself, I know it can’t compare to what Jean must be feeling; the bond between those two is – _was_ – much stronger. The silence is long and heavy before he speaks again. ‘Do… you know anything else? Did he suffer for long?’

_He expired quickly_. I cringe inwardly at the memory of that repulsive man’s words. ‘N-no. He didn’t. From what I remember… That man said he died quickly.’

‘That’s… good.’

There isn’t really any way of telling how long we sit like this; motionless, in silence, each of us drowned in our own morbid and depressed thoughts. At some stage I can hear some quiet noises from the TV in the living room and realise that I have to go and clean up after dinner like promised. ‘Uh, Jean I- I gotta go do the dishes. Want some water?’ He mumbles something incoherent in reply. ‘Huh, what?’

‘No. Thanks.’

‘Oh. Okay. Be back in a few. Go to sleep if you want. Oh, and the bathroom is just across if you need it.’ I get up and leave the room, closing the door behind me, figuring he’d appreciate some time alone after hearing the heart-wrenching news, and the chance to maybe finally let the tears fall in privacy.

As soon as I leave the room though, I’m faced with a perfectly clean table and an empty sink. My stomach flips. _I must have been really out of it and in my own head if I didn’t even hear them doing the dishes_. Of course, anxiety gnaws at my neck; it never really happened before that I neglected my chores, so I have no way of gauging by how much more master’s anger has increased. Some other uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, but I can’t really put my finger on what it is exactly. The door to the living room is closed, so I take a breath, knock twice, and push it open a bit. As I expected, they’re both sitting on the couch, the TV playing some movie I don’t recognise.

‘You okay, Eren?’ Unsurprisingly, it’s Hanji who speaks. Master still wears a scowl on his face, darker than his usual disinterested expression.

‘Y-yes, I… I’m sorry I didn’t wash the dishes…’

‘Oh don’t you worry, you know! We’re all adults here, we’re capable of cleaning a few plates.’ She answers with a smile. That unknown feeling in my stomach grows heavier.

‘O-oh… Then, can I make you some tea or-’

And that’s when I notice two mugs of what looks like hot chocolate on the coffee table, and I suddenly recognise the feeling. It’s the feeling of being useless. Not needed. It’s absolutely unreasonable; of course they don’t need me to do everything for them; I’m only here for less than three months, and up until now, they’ve been handling life perfectly fine without me. I’m just being fucking stupid. But on the other hand, if I don’t serve them – not even sexually – then why am I even here? Fucking dammit. It’s only _one such case_. It’s ridiculous, yet my stomach twists with it.

‘Relax for the night, Eren. Go spend some time with Jean.’ The woman offers me a sad smile and I try to return it, lingering a moment in the doorway, hoping for a reply, a reaction, just a word from master. I get nothing.

Closing the living room door, I go back to my room and close that door behind myself too. Jean is already in bed, having taken up the space by the wall. He’s pressed himself viciously into it as if it would offer some comfort, and wrapped himself up in the duvet tight to the point where I can only see a bit of messy ash-blond hair laying on the pillow. Without saying a word, I change into my pyjamas and curl up under the other cover.

It’s hard to will all the anxious thoughts out of my head, but with some internal battle with my own mind I manage to somehow shut them up, focusing on a calming mental image of snowflakes falling from grey skies. Slowly, I manage to fall into sleep’s arms, pretending not to notice the quiet sniffles behind me.

 

 

Morning comes way too quickly. I feel like I’ve been sleeping for less than an hour before my alarm clock tears at my peaceful dreams. With a groan, I push myself out of bed and walk over to the desk to silence the goddamn thing. The ear-drilling sound woke Jean up as well as I see him untangle himself from both his and my covers; that would explain my ice-cold feet. Wanting to bicker at him but deciding against it – who knows when he’ll have another chance to be warm; on top of that, he faced hell last night – I grab a change of clothes and head to the bathroom, telling Jean he can have a shower when I’m making breakfast and that I’ll leave a green towel for him that he can use.

Despite the fact that there are twice as much people in the house, the morning runs smoothly and as normal. After my shower, I prepare breakfast; deciding to go all out, I make bacon with eggs and toast. Jean doesn’t get much in the way as he grabs a quick shower and then stands silently by the kitchen counter, watching me finish up the food and crossing his hands over his crotch after having taken off his – _my_ ; or _Levi’s_ , really – clothes.

Master and Hanji walk into the kitchen before I have to call for them; while Hanji is fully dressed and ready to go, master is wearing his grey bathrobe, and I can see his navy pyjama pants underneath. I frown, but don’t dare to comment. The only thing I say is a quiet ‘good morning’, which is echoed by Jean just as quietly, if not more. Sadly, but again, expectedly, it is only Hanji that replies with a more cheerful ‘morning, boys!’, while master only offers a noncommittal hum, as if to just acknowledge our presence.

Breakfast is a tense and silent ordeal, except for the woman trying to pick up a conversation with Jean, asking him if he slept well. He doesn’t say anything beside a ‘yes, thank you’, and heavy silence settles over us for the rest of the meal, as if the short exchange never even happened. Once finished, I make sure to wash up immediately, while feeling a profound sadness creeping up. We’ll be heading out soon.

Indeed, just as I’m wiping the table, Hanji announces that it’s time to leave, and mentions she’ll be driving Jean there on her own; master Levi is not going. I have a little moment of panic, but she reassures me quickly that I can come too.

Master leans against his bedroom door and finally speaks for the first time that morning as Hanji attaches leashes to our collars. ‘Eren.’

‘Y-yes, sir?’ His voice, still cold and dark, makes me jump up. The stupid short word slips out again.

‘Dress warm. Take the scarf.’

‘Y-yes.’

‘Kirstein.’

I see Jean lick his lips nervously, but other than that, his face is stoic and passive. That’s not really a surprise; he’s leaving, he doesn’t have to care what _my_ owner says to him. In the completely unlikely case of master deciding to beat him within an inch of his life right here and now, I doubt it would still compare to the mental anguish my friend is going through. I don’t think he’d _care._ ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Take care of yourself.’

I still find it incredible how he’s capable of making relatively comforting words sound so accusing when he’s in a bad mood.

‘Yes, sir.’ After a moment, he takes another breath to speak up. ‘I’m… I’m really grateful, master Levi. I don’t understand, but I’m very-’

‘Four-eyes, don’t drag the brat around and keep him out all day.’ I can see Jean flinch at the rude interruption.

Hanji only sighs. ‘Sure. I’ll see you later.’

Master doesn’t reply, and he’s retracted back to his room by the time we even leave the house. He really is in an awful mood, and I hate the fear forming in my stomach at the thought of coming back later and being alone with him.

 

 

The drive back to the brothel is silent also. With the corner of my eye, I see Jean fiddling with the corner of the blanket wrapped around him, his eyes cast down and full of sadness. That painful emotion overwhelms me too, and I’m desperately trying to think of something to say, to have one last conversation with a friend I might very well never see again in the very last minutes we have together. But nothing seems appropriate. It’s an incredibly rare sight, but I’ve seen him sad before. This, however, is an ache that won’t even bear words of comfort; I can’t imagine _anything_ being able to comfort him now. I can’t imagine him wanting to talk about anything else, either; his grief is too deep. So, I remain silent.

We’re in the parking lot all too soon. The moment the keys are out of the ignition and the car goes silent, tears spring to my eyes and I desperately try to blink them away, which seems to work. So far. We all slowly undo our seatbelts and Jean shrugs off his blanket. He gets out of the car first, and I follow, walking over to his side of the car. Hanji stays at the driver’s seat to perhaps give us a chance to say our goodbyes, and I couldn’t have been more grateful. I’m still at a loss as to what to say, but I can’t just let him leave without a word.

‘Jean…’ I try to start. ‘I’m… glad I could see you, man, I- And… I’m sorry.’ I put my hand on his shoulder; this time, he doesn’t comment on it.

‘Y-’ He starts, but has to swallow a lump in his throat. Tears in my eyes burn more. ‘Yeah. T-thanks for, uh. Convincing him. To rent me. Whatever you did… don’t know.’ He shakes his head, not looking at me, some confusion over the fact that he _really_ wasn’t abused that night still lingering.

‘He’s a, uh, good person. He’s a bit. Cold, at times, rude, maybe. But that’s not personal. Or anything. He’s just a bit odd, but he’s- he’s good.’

I see him frown. ‘Cool.’ I know exactly what he’s thinking; I know that deep inside, he’s bitter that Marco didn’t have a kinder owner.

‘I’m saying that cause- cause maybe you could come over again. Sometime. I’m gonna be on my best behaviour ‘n all that, so I think he’d agree. So hang in there, yeah? Someday, this will all just be just a bad dream, right?’ I give his shoulder a small encouraging shake, trying desperately to will some life, some fight into him.

My eyes keep burning as he looks up at me, giving me a one-sided smirk that is nowhere near reaching his eyes. ‘Sure.’

I pull him in for a hug, fearing that tears might spill and I definitely do not want him to see that. I hate how my warm jacket rubs against his naked, shivering body. I hate everything in this world that brought me to a situation where I have such luxuries but cannot share them with my friend. I take a steadying breath and pat his back; he returns the gesture and we part just as Hanji gets out of the car.

‘Eren, wait in the car, alright.’

She doesn’t make it sound like a question, but I still reply with an obedient ‘Yes, Hanji.’

I walk back around the car, over to the passenger’s seat. As my hand rests on the handle, I look up at my friend once more; with his back to me, he looks over his shoulder to me, give me the saddest smile as he brings up his now cuffed hands to his chest to give me a little wave, before turning away. A tear or ten slip down my face silently at a cold realisation that it’s likely the last time I’m ever seeing him. It breaks me further, having to let him go more broken than before the visit. I get into the car and immediately hear Hanji lock it.

I don’t want to, but I do anyway. I look at the two diminishing figures. It is only when the building door shuts behind them that I allow a heavy sob to tear out of my chest as I finally break down, crying like a child.

I’m screaming and sobbing, forcing all of my anguish out, hoping that I can calm myself down before Hanji returns. It’s something I actually manage to pull off, so that by the time she’s in the car I’m only sniffling quietly. There’s no way to hide the red puffy eyes which I’m sure I’m sporting right now, though. She doesn’t say anything for a while, understanding, and letting me calm down fully. She puts a hand on my arm in a comforting gesture; she probably didn’t expect fresh tears to come to my eyes, but I’m a wreck, and her attempt to help pulls at more of my heart strings. Wiping at my eyes with the jacket sleeve furiously, I finally manage to hold any remaining tears at bay, taking a shaky breath. ‘Th-thank. You.’

It is only then that she withdraws her hand. ‘Will you be alright?’ I appreciate it to no end that she doesn’t ask the ridiculous question whether I _am_ okay, right _now_ ; it’s pretty obvious I’m anything but. I give her a nod, not feeling in full control over my voice just yet.

‘Okay…’ She sighs as she starts the car and slowly makes her way out of the parking lot and onto the road. ‘Would you mind it much if we didn’t go back to Levi’s place right away?’

‘O-oh?’ I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘I-I mean, of course. Of course not. Whatever y-you’d like.’

‘Ah, see. It’s just that Christmas is coming up; wanted to get some greeting cards for people. On top of that, another important day is around the corner as well.’ I’m about to ask, but I figure she just paused for dramatic effect. ‘Levi’s birthday is also on the 25th.’ A new wave of anxiety rolls over me, and for once, I grab at it desperately; anything to get my mind off the fact that we’ve just left Jean at the brothel. ‘I thought we should get him something, hm?’

‘Wh- Y-yes, of course! But- But I can’t get him anything, I… I don’t have any money…’ I mumble into my scarf, embarrassed.

‘Of course; I’m aware of that, and so is Levi; he’d never expect you to buy him anything, that’d be ridiculous.’ She pauses for a moment as she takes a turn at one of the busier crossroads on Rose Street. ‘I’m sure he’d appreciate something hand-made. I was thinking you could get him a birthday card, and write him something, some wishes, in Braille.’

My heart beats a bit faster at the thought of being able to actually give him something. But I deflate just as fast, realising how pathetic it is to just give someone a card as a gift. ‘How would I do that, though?’

‘Just take a needle, punch out the letter from the back side of the card. Does he let you use his computer? Google is your friend; you’d just have to do a quick search on the Braille writing system; I’m sure they’d tell you all about how big the letters should be, how much spacing to put between them.’

‘Yeah… he lets me.’

‘Good, that’s settled then.’ She smiles with satisfaction, for whatever reason. She doesn’t say more until we’re parked in front of the shopping centre building. ‘Hm, what’s wrong?’

I didn’t realise I’ve been frowning. ‘O-oh. I. Just…’ _No idea how to actually say it_. ‘You… Um, do you know why he was i-in such a bad mood last night? And today i-in the morning too…’ I shiver at the thought. ‘Is it because of Jean? Or d-did I do something? H-he was so angry…’

I don’t look up, but I hear her sigh in response. ‘Yeah… He was _extra_ unsociable. I could have seen that he really scared you.’

I try to hide my blush in the scarf. ‘Y-you could?’

‘Yeah; it was hard _not_ to notice you reverting back to the whole ‘sir’ and ‘master’ business once he started being cranky. Sorry for him. But, as to why, I’m not sure…’ She trails off, and when I steal a quick glance at her, she seems to be deep in thought. After a longer while, she continues. ‘It could be due to the fact that he had to interact with four people at once. It may sound ridiculous to you, but keep in mind that… Levi has severe depression. Dealing with people is really hard for him. And I know that he can really come across as awful and rude and mean, but believe me when I say that he doesn’t _want_ to be, he’s not doing this on purpose, he just can’t help it. So, no, it wasn’t anything you did, I wouldn’t say. Or Jean. This is, like, the worst thing you can do when around a depressed person, you know? Blaming things on yourself. Well, sure, if you downright punch them in the face, then yeah, you can blame yourself for when they lash out at you, but I guess that applies to anyone.’ She huffs humourlessly. ‘If I took everything Levi told me personally, our friendship would have ended long ago. I mean, being a little shit was already a part of his personality; or should I say, his way of speaking. Because, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he’s a genuinely caring person. But since the accident, since he went blind and got depressed, everything became worse. He became so irritable, and quite often, downright unpleasant to be around, let’s face it. But I know he regrets it as soon as something horrible leaves his mouth. He might not openly apologize, but he’s got his own little ways of showing he’s sorry. And I would never give out to him for saying things he does when his depression gets bad. Like, I’m sure he’s now in his bed, sulking, hating the world _and_ himself, regretting that he behaved the way he did last night and today in the morning.’ She pauses for another moment. I drink in her every word. ‘So… Please, find it in your heart to forgive him. You know, I see him regularly, and I see him hurting, having lost his beloved job, his research… Shit, he _breathed_ it, you know? Literally expected him to marry one of those TEMs one day. Physics was his everything. And he lost it all. I see him hurting, but I know I can’t even come close to imagining just _how much_ pain he carries.’

My throat clenches with even more unshed tears now, as I try to process the painful words. My head spins from the emotion in them, and the sheer amount of information presented to me. It’s difficult to piece together words for some kind of response. ‘I-I’m… sorry. I mean- I’d never- I could never be upset with how- with the way he treats me. After he’s given me so much… I just wish I could- just want to be good for him, I… I’m constantly worried I’ll disappoint him, or annoy him, I just-’ I wince, realising that I’m rambling, and also feeling guilty; that I’m somehow making it all about me now. ‘I just wish I could… somehow return- repay him, for what he’s given me. I- I want to be good, but I feel so useless…’

When I look up, there’s a smile on her face that I definitely wasn’t expecting. ‘Tell me, Eren. How often, on average, do you go outside with Levi per week? Be it grocery shopping, be it just going for a walk. Just, more less?’

For some reason, she sounds genuinely curious, so I humour her. ‘Uh, um. Maybe, twice? Three times?’

Her smile grows even warmer and brighter, and I have no idea what’s going through her head. ‘Before we bought you… Do you even know how many times Levi would stay holed up in his apartment for _weeks_ on end? There were times when he wouldn’t even get out of _bed_ for _days_ ; wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t shower. He’d fall back on his job with the articles, and the editors would give him shit. But that only stressed him out further, making it harder for him to get up. His current antidepressant dose is 30mg. At his worst, he took three times the amount. Do you understand what I’m saying, Eren?’ I only stare at her, eyes wide. ‘Now, I’m not saying you’ll magically fix him. It doesn’t work like that, you saw yourself; the whole stunt with the gun was the result of his depression and anxiety at their peak. He still has, and will continue to have, his episodes of heightened depression, like last night. But other than that, he’s definitely reacting well to you; even better than I expected. Hell, even the fact that you can keep him eating and functional on a daily, or even somewhat-daily basis is a big achievement. I have to say, I was quite worried at the thought of him having someone living with him, but I was desperate at this stage… And turns out, I was right to convince him to make that decision. You couldn’t have noticed, but _I_ can definitely see that he even _looks_ healthier. Happier- well, that’s probably too big of a word, but… Less depressed, yes. So, well, wow, to conclude this massive impromptu speech, hah; don’t worry, Eren. You’ve already done a lot for him and… He might not tell you these things himself, but… As his closest friend, _I_ thank you. And I’m glad to have you as a part of our little broken family.’

I don’t attempt to fight the tears that flow in small streams down my face. I smile. This time, the overflowing emotion sloshing around in my heart isn’t sadness; it’s pure and unrestrained warmth, affection, gratitude, and joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the long wait... But exams and college and everything was killing me this month.  
> Well I think this is the longest chapter so far; didn't even expect it to go like that o.o (it's over 11.5k words...)  
> Thank you to those still reading after such a long break ^^' <3  
> (music for the later sadder parts of the chapter; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdgE6hj3DB8 )


	13. The Arlerts

Sleep just isn’t going to happen, apparently. No matter how much I toss and turn and count the goddamn sheep, my brain just doesn’t seem to understand that an hour or so of shallow dozing off doesn’t count as the type of rest my body needs, and just won’t shut off. I huff in exasperation as my eyelids keep popping open, as if they’re on some sort of fucking springs. Not as if it makes a difference, but the feeling of having your eyes closed gives you illusion that maybe, just maybe, sleep will manage to take you; I can’t even have that hope. Well, then. Shit, just because that crap isn’t new, doesn’t mean I’ll ever get used to it. Why is simply a sound night’s sleep so much to ask for?

Reaching over to the nightstand on my right I feel my way around the wooden surface for my phone; a tragic block of a thing, straight out of mid 2000’s with actual buttons and everything. Tapping in the PIN, I press number 8 and hold the phone to my ear to listen to an annoying text-to-speech voice telling me the time. I frown when I don’t hear anything. Fuck, I must have pressed 5. Running my fingers over the goddamn keypad with probably more venom than one should ever use on an inanimate object, really, I’m finally certain enough I have the right button and try again. Finally, the monotone voice tells me it’s just before half two in the morning. Or, well, middle of the _fucking_ night.

I can feel a headache from hell coming up as my temples and left ear throb something awful. This day is already ruined, and it hasn’t even started. It’s going to be another disgusting ordeal of going through the motions out of simple necessity, rather than actually wanting to be awake. And of course, who’s going to suffer the most because of that? Eren. I haven’t had that much trouble sleeping, or any other of my typical freakouts or particularly heavy mood swings for some time over a week now; probably since Jean’s visit. The boy has been doing well in terms of overcoming his stuttering and calling me just by my name; but if I scare him with my dark mood again and I’ll hear him call me ‘sir’ or ‘master’, I’m crawling right under this very bed and not leaving for another week.

Frowning, I come to the conclusion that the only way I might even have a chance of getting some rest is taking an extra antidepressant pill. I can hear the doctor bitching already – not that he’d ever find out – telling me how wrong it is on my brain to take the medications inconsistently, both in terms of dosage as well as time. Well, I couldn’t give a lesser shit, he can suck my dick. He’s not the one going insane from lack of sleep, and it’s not like it’s the first time I’m doing it. The extra amount usually knocks me right out, but even that isn’t certain. Worth a try though. Throwing the duvet off of me, I feel my way towards the door and head to the kitchen.

The wooden floor is awfully cold beneath my bare feet as I fish out a glass and fill it with water; also cold. Everything is just so _fucking_ freezing, and it’s definitely not helping me feel sleepy; only more alert. I put the glass down and reach out to the cupboard, trying to find the bottle without making too much noise. I end up knocking some small plastic container of spices or herbs or something in the process, because why the fuck not. Not bothering to put it back upright – out of simple spite, as if the object has personally offended me – I turn towards the glass, take out a pill from the bottle and down it with a sip. I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a noise to my right of something plastic hitting the counter surface. _It’s the fucking herbs, isn’t it_. Growling a curse, I slam the glass back down with a bit more force than necessary and feel the counter for the goddamn cylindrical thing and put it back in its place beside my pills, closing the cupboard behind it.

Bad luck just keeps on giving – or maybe it’s just my own fucking stupidity, really – and I turn back around not carefully enough, sending the empty glass flying to the ground. The deafening sound of it shattering in the otherwise dead-quiet apartment leaves me reeling for a moment. Disgusting memories that come with this sound prickle at my neck; memories of uncontrolled fear, some wicked overly-active sense of self-preservation, and ultimately, threatening a completely innocent person. I haven’t moved an inch before I hear the flip of a light switch in the room.

‘Levi?’ The soft voice is strangely clear and awake for 2am.

‘What.’ I frown at the way I spit the word icily at him. I can basically _feel_ him flinch. Or maybe it’s me doing it.

‘Are you… okay?’

‘Fucking fantastic.’ Why am I so angry? This anger isn’t mine; it belongs to that dark beast inside of me that’s desperately trying to claim me whole. I don’t have a single reason to be upset with the boy, and yet I can’t stop the dead-cold tone lacing my words. ‘Why aren’t you sleeping.’ This is probably an idiotic question, considering the fact that I just made a goddamn _racket_.

‘I… I don’t know, I couldn’t really sleep.’ His voice is somewhat closer than before. Even this irritates me. ‘Do you want me to… help you? Clean up?’

Anger seeps out of my pores. I hate it, but I can’t stop it. There’s only frustration, and I know that it’s frustration with _myself,_ with how pathetic and useless I am, and yet I take it out on him and make me hate myself even more. ‘I don’t fucking need your pity, go back to sleep!’ My hands shake with anger, and so does my voice. I take a step forward, God knows why, and I feel my feet nudge a large piece of glass.

‘I’m sor- no, wait, si- Levi. You’ll… you’ll hurt yourself. There’s glass all over here. Please, just- Let me help?’ His voice is closer yet again; he’s within an arm’s reach. ‘Would you… hand me the dustpan?’ I frown, hearing his voice from down below. He must be squatting down or kneeling.

Deciding he’s probably not going to bug off before the floor is clean, and also managing to reign some of this irrational anger – with the help of Eren’s calm voice in smoothing its rough edges – I squat down and take out the dustpan with the small brush from the cupboard underneath the sink; slowly, so that I don’t fuck things up further. Miraculously, nothing topples over. Well, thank _fuck_. 

I turn to him and slightly extend my hand with the items in the direction where I presume he is, judging by his voice. He only takes the brush from me. I frown, but then I feel him pushing down gently on the dustpan in my hand until it touches the floor, after which he proceeds to slowly push the shreds of glass onto it, the brush making soft sounds against the floor and having a bit of a calming effect on me. The filthy, intrusive thoughts of pushing Eren away till he falls to the ground are gone, and I feel more like myself. Whenever the boy is done with one spot, he gently pushes or pulls the dustpan, guiding me along with him; a step forward, a step to the side, and I support myself with my other hand while we do this weird sort of duck dance.

But I’m not stupid; I know what he’s doing, and now that the wave of anger is passing, I can appreciate it rather than be annoyed by it. He’s _helping_ me, not doing the cleaning up _for me_. We’re doing it together so that I don’t feel useless after making the mess. It’s not a stab to the heart, but definitely a scratch that I can feel; the fact that he has to make an effort to show me that I can be ‘useful’; he’d obviously do it much quicker and more efficiently if he was doing it on his own. Still, I can’t _not_ appreciate it. The throb in my chest is an expected result; snapping anger turning to a gnawing guilt. I just shouted at him, for no reason other than my own fucking mental instability. And I’m not deaf, goddammit. I did hear how he nearly slipped and almost called me ‘sir’, and I did hear as he tried to apologize for nothing. That alone is an indication of how I’ve upset him, and yet his voice remained calm and steady; he approached me, knowing I wasn’t in the right state of mind. I could _feel_ the tension radiating off of him. The thought of how much fear he had to push down, how hard he had to try so I didn’t fucking cut my feet makes me sick. I want to pull and tear at my own skin.

‘I think we got all of it.’

It takes me a second to snap out of my self-hating thoughts and gather my bearings. He gently takes the handle of the dustpan from my grip and I hear him get up and throw the glass pieces in the bin. I follow suit, standing up, as the boy comes back and puts both items in my open palm. I put them back in their place, again, managing to leave everything else nearby intact.

‘Thank you.’ By now I’ve calmed down fully, my voice quietened down by shame and guilt to the point where it’s barely audible to my own ears. I know I should ask for forgiveness, _beg_ for it, for all I’ve put and still constantly put him through, for being so unstable. But I’m scared of his reaction. I’m scared of having my apology rejected, which he’d be entirely entitled to doing. So I say nothing else.

He hums quietly in response, and for a while we stay like that, silent and unmoving, until he speaks again. ‘Do… you want me to leave you alone?’

It takes all my remaining willpower to not cringe; these words hurt in the way they fuel my guilt. He’s just trying _so hard_ for me, and I’m undeserving. But I think about his question. Do I want him to leave? I don’t want to make him feel obliged, to force him to stay here with me, while he probably wants to flee back to his room, to safety and away from me, until he’s completely sure I’m done and over with acting like a fucking whiny sociopath. On the other hand, I’m selfish. I’ve discovered that there aren’t many things as soothing as this kind-hearted boy’s gentle presence. Of course I want him to stay, but I don’t want to taint his soul with my darkness any further.

‘How… how about we, um, maybe just, listen to something stupid and. Boring. On the TV, and, um, maybe we’ll get sleepy then?’ I feel somewhat relieved when I hear tension ebbing away from his voice, each word sounding more relaxed, giving hints of the smallest of smiles on his lips. I feel my muscles in my neck and shoulders relax slightly, glad that he’s not standing there shaking in fear. My reply is a small nod. ‘I’ll, um, get a blanket then.’ There’s definitely a tiny smile in that voice now, and I can’t help but feel my face softening with something similar as I make my way to the couch in the living room.

The remote is under one of the cushions as usual, and I begin my search for something utterly boring on the TV, which I suppose won’t be a challenge at this time of the night. Probably some infomercials or reruns of low budget shows, or gross adult movies. I stop flipping the channels when I hear the unmistakeable Chewbacca roar and decide that that’s what we can settle for. I’m not the biggest fan of Star Wars, but I don’t hate it either; and considering the films’ heavy focus on visuals and less on dialogue, the remaining random noises of battleships and lightsabers are bound to put me to sleep, especially after the pill. I snuggle into the right armrest of the couch, the one closer to the door – my usual spot – with my knees up to my chest just as I hear Eren’s bare feet in the room. The couch dips underneath his weight and I feel a blanket being wrapped around our legs and pulled up to our chins. This is not bad.

We don’t exchange any further words as we sit there, under the blanket’s warmth. Listening to the sounds and conversations coming from the TV, I try to keep up with the plot from memory, but focusing on the movie in any way is soon turning out to be difficult, my thoughts inevitably turning to something – some _one_ – more real, until the boy’s warmth is the only thing occupying them.

I might be blind, but I’d have to be completely oblivious to reality to not notice the worrying aspects of Eren’s behaviour. Is ‘worrying’ even the right word? He’s making progress; that’s undeniable. Fear isn’t dictating his every breath, and he’s slowly regaining control of his own self and his own identity. Starting to understand he’s human, and that I mean him no harm. All these things are everything I could want for him, and yet… Yet, I can see he’s clearly misguided. It’s impossible to overlook the small bits of something resembling affection; his clear wish to be physically close to me, his almost constant gaze on me that I can feel like something physical, his determination for my approval, to impress me; especially now, after we had that awfully charged conversation and I asked him to drop the whole ‘master’ deal. Now that he can control his fear much better, he’s more forward and brave about approaching me, and fuck, I should be happy, right? And on one hand, I am. Again, this is what I want for him. But if he really feels something akin to affection towards me, then it means things are taking an ugly shape. It’s true; Hanji and I are rebuilding him practically from scratch, for he was nothing more but a broken mind, a broken body, and a broken soul when he first showed up in this house. And I know he feels grateful, but he shouldn’t feel affection; at least, the mere kindness and simply _humane_ treatment shouldn’t be the only source of it; and there are no other reasons as to why he should feel affection towards me. My temples throb again as the awful words float in my head, no matter how much I try to mentally swat them away; _Stockholm syndrome_. I shut my eyes. This _isn’t_ how I wanted to rebuild him. I wanted to make him independent and strong, just the way he is helping me become again; not manipulating him into making him emotionally dependent on me. But it is the perfect, fertile land for such a disorder, or even something similar to develop, isn’t it? While I’m not technically his abuser or his captor, I’m his owner, his caretaker; his master, as he likes to put it. And for an unhealthy amount of time, he did expect me to abuse him. When I didn’t, and treated him in the way any normal, half-decent human being would, he took it as the epitome of kindness, leading him to the state of mind he’s in right now, whatever is. Thinking that he owes me. That I’m someone special. Maybe even that he feels something for me. I cringe. Whatever it is, it’s artificial. It’s freeing him from one set of shackles and putting him in new ones. If we met in different circumstances, he wouldn’t feel that way; this is only taking place because I didn’t address this vulnerability, this weak spot, in a way I should have. Or was it unavoidable?

But I would be a liar if I said that this, whatever this feeling is, is one sided. I’ve tried to deny it. Ignore it. But I _am_ warming up to the marvellous young man that rises from the ashes of a broken boy. My fondness for him grows with each crack in the submissive, fearful mask he’s been forced to put on his face and heart; with each time the thrumming strength and pure heart bursting with life are revealed. His humanity; the little things that make him _Eren_. The tuneless humming when he’s so absorbed in making dinner. His simple, unrestrained glee when I take him for a pastry or hot chocolate after grocery shopping. The genuine fascination and open mind to everything I try to teach him. His incredible sense of justice, making my heart stop whenever I recall his tears after I’ve told him the story of my disability. The way he can’t dust shelves to save his life, but almost religiously dedicates himself to working on the spot I point out he’s missed, trying to improve, determination making the air around him buzz. His selfless, considerate heart, his worry and care for his friend. It would take a man with an even darker soul than mine to not fall under Eren’s spell, to not be enchanted by the bright spark which even I can see.

And yet, fondness is all it can ever be. Eren is growing, fighting and winning, but he’s still vulnerable. And the last thing I want to do is to take any more advantage of that. I already have; I’ve kept him locked up here, all to myself, away from the world, away from freedom his young heart must so yearn for. Unintentionally, I forced him to believe that he can be happy with what I give him; throwing him scraps of existence – some affection, some chores and some pastimes to keep him busy – and forcing him to make a life out of it; and for something so trivial and basic, I received his unwavering devotion in return.

My thoughts start to become less and less coherent, my body finally starting to feel tired, and I get the impression that my internal struggle was the main factor. Still, I try to sort out my plan of action. As it stands, Eren might be at risk of developing this awful syndrome, or perhaps it’s already happening; getting closer to him will only make things worse in that regard. The only way I can think of to prevent it from happening or reversing the damage that’s been done, is letting Eren meet more people. Jean was here because Eren was worried sick about him; but I can’t have the poor boy over here every weekend. The most reasonable thing to do would be befriending him with one of my previous students, and none of them can make others feel at peace as much as Armin Arlert can. It’s definitely an important advantage that I still keep in touch with him and his grandfather; the boy being the one to proofread my articles, and the old man being a somewhat of a good colleague to have a beer and a chat with. I haven’t invited them over for a while, and I’ve rejected every invitation for dinner. When going through the deepest pits of my depression, I ignored Mr. Arlert’s calls completely. Yet he never gave up; yet something else I didn’t deserve. It would be decent to finally pull my head out of my ass and invite them over, especially since Christmas is just around the corner; since I won’t be celebrating it – again – maybe it would be good to invite them a few days prior, at least. Even though my hands get clammy at the thought of the apartment being so busy again. But now I have an incentive; Eren _needs_ this, needs to be in touch with the outside world. So what can I do besides resigning myself to call the older man in the morning?

My mind physically aches at the way my swarming thoughts come to an abrupt halt when a warm weight settles on my shoulder. My body stiffens before the realisation dawns that Eren has just leaned on me. ‘This okay?’ His voice is so sleepy and I’m starting to really become aware of my own sweet approaching exhaustion; now would be a good time to head over to our rooms and finally get some sleep.

And yet… ‘Mhm.’

As I murmur my response I feel him basically snuggle into my shoulder. What was that, that I just decided? About not getting too close to him, for his own good? But… this isn’t too close, is it? Or am I too tired to think straight anymore?

My arm feels strangely useless and out of place, even though Eren is leaning against it. Too tired to think against it in time, I shift, causing Eren to lift his head up until I bring him in closer, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and letting his head rest more against my chest. As I feel him smile against me and his warm skin against my own, his body so beautifully real and solid, I can only marvel at how right it feels. My mind feels blissfully empty and calm, my internal raging storm calmed down by Eren’s very welcome proximity. I feel at peace.

 

 

‘…But? Today? Already?’ The apprehension in his voice is unmistakeable, but neither is it unexpected. The fact that Armin and his grandfather are going to be here in a couple of hours and I had no time to mentally prepare myself for having guests over slightly puts me on edge, too. Nothing worse than socialising with such a short time’s notice.

‘Yeah, they’re busy with all the Christmas stuff. He said today’s really the last day they’d have time for a visit.’ I don’t tell him that I really want them to come over before I talk myself out of the idea, or the fact that that I just want Eren to meet Armin as soon as possible. ‘But trust me. Like I said, they’re good people, I promise.’ He seemed slightly less anxious when I told him Armin is the charitable kid who works for free for me; he’s probably worried more about the other visitor. ‘Armin’s grandpa is a great man, I’m sure you’ll get along with him well. You don’t need to be too formal with him or anything. Just call him by ‘Mr. Arlert’, like I do. And, obviously, that goes without saying; in Armin’s case, just call him by his name. He’s somewhere your age, so.’ I shrug.

‘You sure they… won’t mind?’

‘Absolutely. I’ve known them for years, I know what they’re like.’

‘Okay…’ he sighs quietly.

‘You okay with making a larger lunch for tonight? Sorry, I know you’ve had to do that just a few days ago, but- You know what, come on. I’ll help you. Well… as much as I can.’ I frown, realising that a blind man in the kitchen is probably only going to slow him down. ‘Have you, uh, got any ideas as to what we could make?’

‘Wha- um… yeah! Actually, yeah. Maybe we could make, um, some schnitzels? With like, um, potatoes? And some vegetables?’

‘Sounds good to me. Wanna get started now?’

We head to the kitchen and I stand back, leaning against one of the further counters; this is practically Eren’s space, exclusively, so I don’t want to get in his way. I hear him opening and shutting some drawers and cupboards, getting utensils and pots and frying pans ready. Just as I’m about to ask him whether I can do something, he timidly asks if I could peel the potatoes. Giving him a hum in response, I reach out my hand and he hands me a knife, setting some potatoes in front of me on the counter rather loudly, with a soft thud. I know he’s anxious about letting me do anything; he’s such an open book; I can basically hear his thoughts, by now being quite familiar with his thought process and fears. He’d want to comply with my request and give me something to do; to make me feel like I’m being useful. But my lack of sight obviously makes things difficult and limits the number of things I can do _properly_ ; not that he would ever dare to voice that, not wanting to upset me. It’s obvious he’s giving me the ‘disability’ treatment, but I don’t want to call him out on it; that would only put him on edge and make things awkward in the future. Maybe sometime, a day will come when we’ll both be comfortable enough with each other for Eren to not tiptoe around the issue; maybe to even joke about it. For now, I make sure to ask him to point out any spots on a potato that I’ve missed and to _thank_ him when he gently moves my hand which holds the knife. My heart swells with pleasant warmth when his warm fingers touch mine; I’m glad to have further evidence that this young man isn’t fearful of approaching and even touching me. For a good while, we work in a delightfully comfortable silence.

‘So, um, you won’t be celebrating Christmas?’

The question catches me off guard and by surprise, and the way he formed the question irks me a bit; using ‘you’ instead of ‘we’. As if I’d celebrate it on my own – sit by myself in the kitchen eating a fucking carp while I’d tell Eren to stay in his room and not bother me – or would go off somewhere and leave him alone. The disgusting mental images of utter loneliness and rejection the boy would feel make my skin crawl. ‘No, not really. Not anymore. Not since, uh, the accident. I’m not really in the mood for, well, festivities, with lots of people everywhere, you know…’

The thought that I’m denying Eren the celebration and a joyful break from the grey monotony of his current life makes me feel guilty, but his tone is light when he replies. ‘Of course, I understand. And, uh- some big Christmas party would probably- I’d probably not like being i-in a crowd, either…’

I feel a warm kind of connection swim between us at his words. Naturally, I can’t compare myself to what _he_ went through; not as if it’s a competition, but he’s obviously the one with the bigger burden to bear. But we’re both oddities somehow, damaged by life’s cruelties, making us withdraw from among people and into our secluded shells; and while I wouldn’t wish that kind of mental agony upon anyone, and definitely not Eren, I’m glad he’s here, and that he understands. And that I’m not alone.

‘Do… you believe in God, Levi?’

Another unexpected question. ‘Hm? What’s with that all of a sudden?’

‘O-oh, um, nothing, really. Just curious, I guess. And, you know. Speaking of Christmas, ‘n all.’

I let myself ponder, but don’t come up with anything definitive. ‘I, uh… Not sure, you know. I’m on board with general spirituality, maybe. I guess. Some ideas, that all things alive are connected somehow. That there’s more to life than what we can pick up with our senses; more than what we can comprehend with science, with _physics,_ even. I have some theories of my own, though, how science fits into all of that, I like to entertain these thoughts… Put me right to sleep, you know?’ I huff. ‘Maybe one day I’ll tell you… But, concepts like, I dunno, fate? Life after death? _God_? I dunno.’ I run my fingers over the second last potato with care, trying to pick up any peel I’ve missed. ‘Do you? Believe in God, I mean?’

It’s a short while before he speaks, his voice thoughtful. ‘I’m… not sure either. I-I’d probably like to. It’d probably be comforting, I guess? But I dunno, I… Haven’t really spared too much thought. On that stuff. Dunno.’

I hum in reply, and the conversation drops again. The silence that returns is still comfortable, only interrupted by sounds of utensils and sporadic comments and instructions about preparing the food.

 

 

‘So, you _are_ alive! Good Lord, it feels like it’s been decades, Levi.’ Mr. Arlert’s cheerful voice greets me loudly; but not _too_ loudly for it to be obnoxious or annoying. He knows me well and I’m grateful.

‘Grandpaaa…’ Armin’s voice drawls out the word in an unimpressed whine as he walks into the kitchen and I hear Eren lock the front door. My fingers twitch and I feel trapped; the apartment suddenly being crowded and much louder. ‘Don’t pick on Levi-doc.’

I want to reply, to laugh at the old nickname, but my stupid body still senses danger and it takes me a few seconds to mentally talk myself through it. Things would have gotten awkward if it wasn’t for the older man obviously picking up on my ridiculous nervousness and giving me time to adjust by drawing attention to himself; he makes a loud sound as if he’s stretching. ‘Ohh boy, those bus drives ain’t good for my hip. Ya’d think they’d invest in comfier seats, with how expensive the bus fares are.’ I feel a gentle wave of calm, and realise Eren is back to standing just slightly behind me; his shoulder making the briefest contact with the back of mine. I reach out, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and pull him lightly forward so that he’s at my side; I don’t want him to feel inferior, standing behind me, or that he has something to fear and should hide. ‘And thanks for inviting us, Levi. Looking forward to another physics lecture over a beer.’ I hear him opening the fridge. ‘I’m gonna pop them in here, alright? Brought you a bottle of wine, too. As a little Christmas gift. Gonna leave it here on the counter.’

I find my voice and I suddenly feel utterly stupid. ‘You… shouldn’t have. I don’t have anything for you.’

‘Are you kidding? This is more than enough. Levi Ackerman inviting people over to his cave. It’s like a Christmas miracle!’

I huff, strangely comfortable with this man’s usual jokes. ‘You old fart.’

‘Get a room, you lovebirds.’ I can practically hear Armin’s eye roll. ‘Anyway. So! You must be Eren, right?’

I can feel him go practically rigid beside me, all attention suddenly on him. ‘Y-’ I hear him swallow. ‘Yeah…’

‘I’m Armin, nice to meet you!’ His voice is suddenly slightly closer, and I feel Eren’s body shift beside mine; probably leaning forwards for a handshake.

‘H-Hi. Armin.’

‘God, you poor thing. How hard must it be to live with this physics lunatic?’

‘Oi, you brat!’ I pretend to scold him, but I obviously can’t get angry with someone like him; not when I know he absolutely means nothing bad with his words. And honestly? This isn’t the first time I’ve been called that, so maybe there’s some truth to his words.

‘He probably makes you do 2D potential wells, morning till night, till your brain leaks out your ears, like he always did to _us_! He’s merciless…’

‘W…what? N-no…?’ I can feel he’s still tense; he’s probably thinking that the other boy is genuinely trying to insult me.

‘Stop spewing such crap, Armin. Besides, that was college, wasn’t it? Not vacation. You don’t get a paper at the end for just showing up to lectures, greenhorn.’

‘Hey!’ The blond boy protests. ‘You can’t call me that; I’m graduating in a few months!’

There’s an unpleasant pang in my chest at the thought that I won’t teach him, or other students from his year group, the modules that I usually would deliver to the final years; but I try not to let it show. ‘Exactly. With a bachelor’s. You’re still a child.’

‘Wha- You’re awful, don’t talk to me.’ He laughs. ‘Eren! I’m sure he still brainwashes you with physics only. You should get to know some other things, too, you know? I brought you some other books you might like, cause God knows you won’t find any variety in Levi-doc’s collection…’

‘You brought books over for dinner?’ I roll my eyes purely for the dramatic effect. ‘Of course you would.’

‘Damn right! They’re my old books from high school. Eren, I’m gonna show you them after dinner, after those two old grumps go to watch TV with a beer or whatever it is that old grumps do.’

The boy’s grandpa cuts through the chit-chat. ‘Well, looks like I got a few things wrong here. Thought we’re coming over for food and a civilised conversation; not listen to you two bicker like an old couple and _then insult me_.’ If I wouldn’t know he’s being sarcastic, I would have thought he’s actually somewhat offended. ‘Say, Eren.’ He changes his tone to a friendly laugh. ‘Was the food a farce; should we order take out?’

Eren huffs so softly; it’s a sound which very much resembles a shy, gentle laugh, and I couldn’t have been happier to hear it, to know that Eren is relaxing. ‘I- We _did_ make food, Mr. Arlert. Should I… Levi, should I serve it now?’

‘Yeah. If you wouldn’t mind Eren.’ I turn my face to the direction of his voice and give him what I hope is an encouraging smile.

‘Yes, sure!’

 

 

To my surprise, dinner is a relaxing and carefree affair. I sit in Eren’s usual spot with the boy himself beside me, and with the guests across from us, Armin’s grandfather sitting in front of me. Eren serves the delicious – as usual – food, complete with a glass of apple juice for all, and miraculously, everyone chips into the conversation going around the table; some more than others, of course – expectedly, Eren being the most quiet, but that lovely warmth is in my chest again as time passes and he opens up, bringing to mind the image of a young butterfly freeing himself from the cage he had previously constructed for his heart; a confinement which was necessary to survive, to live, to bring about this beautiful transition. In my mind’s eye, this whole scene looks so _domestic_ , so peaceful and warm, Eren’s shoulder so soothing beside mine, that this cold apartment feels like a home again.

It’s not long before the food is finished. After making sure to clearly instruct Eren to not even think about doing the dishes yet, Mr. Arlert and I make our way to the couch in the living room with the beers he brought to listen to some dull football game, while Armin excitedly drags his newfound friend to his room, presumably bag full of books in the other hand. I smile. God, that kid hasn’t changed one bit.

I let the older man have control over the remote, and I appreciate him not setting the volume too high; he knows my dislike of unnecessarily loud noises, particularly since the accident and my hearing sharpening significantly. He lowers the volume just slightly after a few minutes and tries to strike up a conversation. ‘You been up to date with the recent matches?’

One of the commentators screams something incoherent, as apparently something that was supposed to be exciting happens on the screen, but it’s not like I’m really paying attention. I couldn’t be less interested if I tried, but I’m content enough with just the beer, this calm man’s company, and the knowledge that Eren is making a new friend. I wait till the hype on the TV dies down before replying. ‘Uh, no, not really. Trying to work more regularly on those shitty articles these days.’ I reply, still sour about what I’ve been reduced to; I don’t think this will ever go away.

‘Ah, I see. And how is that going along?’

‘Up and down, I suppose. But I think I’m getting a fair amount done, recently. Sometimes to the point where it’s hard to come up with something new, you know? Something that’ll interest the general public but won’t scare them away with maths…’ He hums twice along to my words in understanding. ‘How is that hip of yours anyway?’

‘Oh, I got a replacement surgery a few months back.’ My breath hitches but he only laughs. ‘No more MRIs for me.’

Few months back. He kept calling me and I, because of my own pathetic self-pity and weakness and depression, ignored, and then downright rejected his calls, because I was too much of a wimp to even get out of bed and face the real world. I feel sick with even more guilt. He probably needed me; he needed all the help he could get, and as a friend, I’ve failed him. ‘I’m sorry, I… never returned your calls, I should have- I’m sorry I was of no use.’ My voice is quiet with shame.

‘No, Levi, come on. Don’t be silly, boy. You’ve had a rough time there, probably much worse than me. I’m all good now; the surgery was a success, and the pain is much less now, even if I can’t do as much physical activity as before. But sure, it’s not like I’d take those old bones for a ride in an amusement park anyway!’ The man’s hearty laugh almost convinces me he doesn’t harbour any grudge. ‘And I can see that you’re doing better yourself as well? You _look_ better. More rested. Healthier. Are you sleeping better?’

‘Yeah… Getting more fresh air these days, maybe that’s why.’

‘Oh?’ He prompts me to continue.

‘Mm. Eren and I go for walks regularly. We make a point to try and go at least once a week.’

‘That’s great, it’s definitely doing you good, Levi.’ I hum in agreement, feeling a bit awkward after having my health as the focus of the conversation. ‘Eren seems like a good young man.’

I’m not sure where he’s going with this, _whether_ he is, but it’s not like I can disagree. ‘He is.’ After a moment of thought, I add. ‘I’m glad he’s here. But… I don’t know if _he_ is.’ Once the words are out, I realise how stupid they sound. Of course, Eren might be glad to be out of the brothel and not in a house of a man who’d beat and starve him, as he’d expected. But it goes without saying that he longs for freedom, for _life._ I might strive to not treat him like one and to ease his pain, but the painful truth is that he _is_ a slave.

‘Son… There’s nothing you can do about what- _who_ he is. But I do know that in his current situation, he’s as lucky as he can be; you won’t hurt him. It’s obvious you care about him very much.’

For whatever reason, these words make me bristle; even though they are true. Yet they still give me a strange feeling, as if I’ve been caught having some high school crush. Maybe it’s hearing those words, the confirmation that the boy is more important to me than I’d like to admit. ‘What? No, look, I just… Anyone would do that in my situation!’ My voice sounds irritated in my own ears.

‘Ah, Levi, no need to get so defensive. But- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it. But I think it’s a good thing, you know? It’s doing both of you good. He’s safe with you, and you – while caring for him, you benefit from it, too; maybe you haven’t even realised it. But having someone to care for… It’s always a good way to shift the focus away from your own pain. I think this is the main thing that’s helping you get better, son, you know?’

Frankly, I’m somewhat distressed by the way he manages to look right through me, right through the situation; the level of insight he’s been able to deduce so quickly. But really, what else could I expect from _Armin_ ’s grandfather? At the same time, there’s a burning temptation to confide in this man, since he’s already laid out my mind bare for inspection. ‘You’re… you’re right, I just-’ I frown at myself, realising how much I’m stammering, how hard it is to get the words out; the thoughts that weren’t coherent up until now, being merely a mixed current of emotions, flowing and guiding my actions without being pinpointed and defined. ‘I wanna make things up to him. Within just over a year, he’s lost everything, you know? His family, his home, his freedom… His dignity. God- The things he went through… I mean, I don’t even know the details, never wanted to pry, or- Or maybe I was just too much of a coward to ask, but… God, when he first showed up here he was _so_ _petrified_. He was too scared to talk, to eat, to sit in a chair and not on the floor. At times, I thought he was too scared to _breathe_. He thought I’d do the most… disgusting things to him; that I’d… I needed a pair of eyes, but- Shit, he thought I brought him here to- to-’ I can’t bring myself to say the filthy words.

‘Levi…’

‘That kind of behaviour can only be an indication of the sheer amount of torture inflicted upon that poor boy, but I can’t even begin to imagine the details… He strikes me as someone strong and fiery underneath that terrified shell; just how much did they have to hurt him to make him break like that?’ I hate how quiet my voice sounds, how it shakes on certain words. Am I still the person who used to intimidate lecture rooms full of students? What a ridiculous question. Of course I’m not. ‘So I… I want to make things better for him, you know? Show him that he doesn’t have to be scared of his own shadow anymore, he just doesn’t deserve what he went through; no one does. But I… I just feel so… So _inadequate._ I’m his caretaker, so I should be the one to care for him, for fucks sake. Especially since he’s so vulnerable. But so often, it’s him who ends up caring for me; he’s doing most of the household chores now – which, fuck, I gave them to him myself – but he also endures my fucking tantrums, and helps me through them. He made me face the outside world again; shit, he put some life into me, you know? And whatever I’m doing for him, I can’t repay him for that, I’m just not doing enough.’ I hear the growing desperation in my own ears. ‘I want him to make the most of life despite the situation he’s in; I want him to find and do something he likes, I want him to meet new people; don’t want him to feel like he’s dependent on me, that his world now has to revolve around _me_ , until the end of his days. But- But I just can’t give it to him! I’m… I’m worried- so worried that by giving him the opportunity to live, or _trying_ to give him that, I’m goading him into actually feeling dependent on me, into feeling like he owes me, that- that he should be grateful, to the point where he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling anymore, but- but on the other hand how can I do anything else besides trying to be good to him? But… God, but then I’m not good enough, _fuck,_ I don’t- I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, I don’t even understand myself, I…’

‘Levi. Son. Take a deep breath.’ A heavy large hand rests on my shoulder and somehow it’s comforting. I try to take the advice, but it takes a few tries to actually take a solid, proper lungful of air. ‘You’re really beating yourself up over this, and there’s no point, I… I think you’re being way too harsh on yourself.’

That makes all too familiar irritation spark in me. ‘Don’t give me that patronising pseudo-therapeutic crap!’ I snap at him, and a moment of silence follows, making my skin crawl with more guilt. He meant nothing wrong. ‘I’m sorry.’ I hate apologising, but hurting people I care about is worse.

‘No, you’re right, maybe I should have phrased it better…’ He doesn’t sound hurt or offended, just deep in thought and perhaps somewhat saddened. How this person – or anyone, really – puts up with me is beyond me. ‘I’m not a psychologist or anything. Wish I could, but I can’t give you answers that you’re so desperate for. But, in my opinion… I think gratitude is a normal emotion for Eren to feel, and I don’t think it must mean he’s going all Stockholmish on you, or whatever you think is happening. That’s what I think.’ He sighs. ‘What I _know_ , is that you don’t give the boy enough credit, while you really do demand too much of yourself. Just let me finish. Eren might be vulnerable and hurt, but neither does he need to be coddled like an infant; that wouldn’t help him at all. The things you tell me, that he was too scared to even speak; these fears are gone now, Levi. Maybe not entirely, but when I came in, I didn’t see a slave terrified beyond his senses; I saw a young man, who, granted, was nervous, apprehensive of meeting new people. But nothing like what you said was happening before. He’s making progress, and I’m sure you’re aware of that yourself. Besides… and now, listen carefully, boy.’ He takes a deep breath, and I ready myself for even more lecturing. ‘You help him, and he helps you. You take care of each other. Now I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is what a healthy relationship looks like; friendship, partnership, any kind of relationship is based on that. Don’t you see? He’s not one of your machines in the university; I think you spent too much time among those to realise how _human_ interaction works.’ The old man laughs lightly, trying to lift up the immense seriousness of the mood.

And fuck if he isn’t right. _Again._ Damn the Arlert genes. My head spins from the utter overload of information; he’s a bystander, a third person, and his view certainly shines a new light at the situation. And it’s so obvious and logical that in hindsight, it’s almost painful. It’s only natural to mutually support each other, isn’t it? I try to speak after swallowing through my dry throat. ‘Does… Tell me just this one thing. He… Doesn’t look terrified of me?’ His earlier words added fuel to my little flame of hope and I’m desperate to confirm it. I need his outside opinion; I need to know if I’m not just imagining things.

‘No. He doesn’t. If anything, he looks very, uh, determined.’ He gives a small chuckle. With my silence, I prompt him to continue. ‘I think he’s very determined and almost desperate for your approval. He was so tense – but not scared – when he was putting your plate in front of you, as if he wanted to put the plate in the perfect spot, down to the millimetre; I thought his gaze would burn right through the table. Hah, I don’t think he’s even aware he’s doing it. He was so tense, I thought he’d snap in half. But then you thanked him for it, and his face lit up like some Christmas tree, or like you just gave him the moon.’ Mr. Arlert laughs, but I have no words to say to him in reply. I just don’t _know_ what to say. ‘That’s what I mean; you’re not giving him enough credit. And if he’s grateful, if he wants to make you happy; let him. As long as you’re not abusing his gratitude, there’s nothing wrong with it. And knowing you, you’d rather cut all ties with physics or roll around in thick dust and mud than exploit the vulnerability of someone you care about.’

‘What, no-!’

‘Come on, Levi. I know you love to hide it, but it’s okay, you know? It’s okay to feel. And it’s okay to care. You’re human, you know.’

I can feel my muscles vibrate under the weight of the importance of this long conversation, of the new revelations. ‘Th… thank you.’

 

 

On the 19th I decide I’ve been putting it off for too long, so I called Hanji to meet me one last time before Christmas; the following day, which is a Saturday, working out perfectly as it doesn’t interfere with her work.

‘I… I’m not going with you?’ Eren’s voice sounds so very _sad_ , his words out before the hoover even fully quietens its roaring.

‘No. Can you finish hoovering? And then, uh, defrost and clean out the fridge?’ Strangely, that’s the first thing that comes to mind; I mean, what else _hasn’t_ he done in the last few days? The place was spotless; I couldn’t feel even a speck of dust on the shelves this time. ‘You know how to do it right? Wipe it down with a mix of water and vinegar.’ That should keep him busy enough.

‘Yes, yes.’ He still sounds dejected.

I frown. Well, looks like I’m not the only one being apprehensive about Eren staying here alone for the first time. But it has to happen at some stage, doesn’t it? I have to trust him, don’t I? ‘Are you worried about being here on your own?’

‘N-no, no, no. I’m… okay.’ He’s not very convincing.

‘You’ve got nothing to worry about. The door is alarmed. Just don’t open it to anyone, alright? I mean, it’s not like anyone would come by anyway, but just in case. And if something is wrong, call me on my mobile; it’s on speed dial at number 4 on the phone there, alright? And if, for whatever reason, I’m not picking up, call Hanji at 2. Okay?’

‘Yeah. Okay.’ I’m glad to hear that his voice is less uneasy.

‘Good. Do you want me to get you something when I’m out?’

His breath hitches with the smallest gasp. ‘N-no, I… but, thank you.’

I nod to him before turning away and guiding my way back to my room. Searching one of my drawers, I fish out a little smooth gift bag made of thick paper. I don’t remember what colour it was; Hanji’s gift was bought much in advance. It’s not like these little fuckers were easy to get; had to have them shipped from overseas.

The woman gives me a call just as I’m zipping up my jacket, letting me know she’s waiting in the car downstairs. ‘Eren, I’m off now.’ I say to the boy who’s currently taking everything out of the fridge once I hang up. The shuffling and scraping stops following my words.

‘O-okay. Any… anything else I should do while you’re gone?’

‘No, you’re alright. Have we got some lunch for later?’

‘Yeah, I made f-fruit dumplings.’

I’m about to just nod and get fucking constipated on my reaction again, instinctively holding it in for some unknown goddamn reason, as usual; but then Mr. Arlert’s voice drifts back to me; _I think he’s very determined and almost desperate for your approval_. So I allow my expression to soften and manage a small, genuine smile. ‘That sounds great.’ I feel like I should go all out and maybe add something else, but the sudden change of air about the boy in front of me lets me know it was enough to make him happy – not that I can be certain, but I decide to trust my instincts. Turning away and telling him to lock the door behind me I keep the smile on my face, and with awe I realise that I’m not even making a conscious effort to keep it there.

 

 

‘Mmmmerry Christmaaaas, Leviiii!’

Why am I friends with that woman again? The door didn’t even shut fully behind me and she’s already screaming her head off and pulling me towards her car. ‘Can you calm your tits a bit, Hanji? At least one.’

She giggles like a maniac as she basically shoves me into the passenger seat; I’m getting a headache already. ‘Aw, come on! Have a bit of a festive cheer in ya!’ She slams the door after she gets in, and before she even restarts the vehicle, the small space is filled with awful, cliché Christmas music. I jab my finger at random buttons on the player until the dreadful screeching falls silent. Hanji’s eyeroll is basically audible. ‘Ah, you’re no fun.’

I give an exasperated sigh, reaching into my coat pocket where I rolled up the little gift bag. ‘God, you’re such a pain, you know that? But still, here. Merry Christmas, I guess.’ I shove the bag in her direction without turning my head to her.

She squeals. She genuinely _squeals_ ; why did anyone ever grant her access to any lab, ever? She’s obviously a child; not a grown ass woman. ‘Awwww, Leviiiii! I love you too!’ Before I can protest, she leans over and pecks my cheek. I growl at her, but she pays it no mind. Listening to her unwrap the gifts, she reminds me of a starved lion tearing into the flesh of a still-struggling gazelle. Well, at least the delicate components are in boxes. And then she squeals some more. ‘Ooooh! You got me eyepieces and replacement bulbs for my newest microscope, oh my God, Levi! How did you even know the model?’

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. ‘Well it’s not like you ever spoke about anything else for two weeks straight once you got it.’

‘Thank you! Really, thanks, Levi. It’s a fantastic microscope, but the parts are so hard to find. So I really appreciate it.’ She calms down a bit and starts to sound at least somewhat like a sane person. I hum and nod in response. ‘Now, here’s your gift! Happy birthday! And merry Christmas!’

I hear her shake something in front of my face and I groan but take the bag. ‘You said that just ten seconds ago.’ Mumbling, I reach into the bag and touch two separately wrapped objects. I take the first softer one, pressing at it, trying to suss out more or less what I’m dealing with; it’s some sort of fabric. I pull off the satin ribbon and the item falls into two pieces; a bit of further inspection, and I groan again. ‘You got me fucking _socks_? Really? _Really?_ ’

She laughs, making the whole car shake. ‘Yeah! But feel them, they’re so fluffy! And they’ve got reindeer patterns on them, they’re so cute!’ This woman is fucking insane; leave it to her to come up with the most ridiculous gift. ‘But okay, okay, you’ll like the next one better. Smell it.’

Trusting her is hard, but I take out the other little bag which makes soft rustling sounds in my hand and bring it to my nose, and forget I was ever angry with his beautiful soul in the first place. ‘Tea?’

‘Yep! Three different kinds of black tea with dried fruit. One with cherries, one with strawberries, and one with blueberries.’ She lost me after the cherries and my eyes roll back in my head as I take another whiff; oh yes this is definitely cherries I smell. The temptation to run back upstairs and brew this miracle is almost too great to resist. ‘I knew you’d like those!’

Hanji’s voice brings me back to earth; the shit-eating grin evident in her tone. ‘Mm. This is the _stuff_. Sorry for being an ass sometimes.’ I babble something, still inhaling the wonderful aroma.

The woman snorts. ‘You’re _welcome,_ Levi. Anyway, here’s Eren’s gift.’ She puts another bag on my lap and I finally stop smelling the tea to touch the new item wearily. Hanji might just have gotten me tea, but her ideas are still dangerous. ‘Come on, don’t make a face as if it’s gonna bite you. Give it to him on Christmas day for me, yeah?’

‘Alright.’

‘Cool.’ She finally starts up the car. ‘So, what do you want to get for Eren, where are we going?’

 

 

‘Eren, ’m back.’ Locking the door behind me and making sure Eren’s gifts are securely packed in the inner pockets of my coat, I listen for any sounds.

Surely enough, it takes just a few seconds for me to hear soft pats of the boy’s socks against the wooden surface approaching. ‘H-Hi!’ I release a tense breath I didn’t realise I was holding; he didn’t set the place on fire. He didn’t hurt himself. He didn’t run away. Trusting him wasn’t a mistake. On top of that, he sounds… happy? That I’m back? ‘Do you, um, want me to- Oh! What’s this?’ He’s definitely happy now. ‘Oh! Oh! Y-you- you bought a tiny, tiny Christmas tree?’ He actually _giggles_ with pure glee as I extend the potted plant I’ve been holding towards him. A moment passes before he seems to understand, and the weight is lifted from my hand as he takes the pot from me.

That wasn’t in the plans; it was a last moment idea – a result of my gnawing conscience and Hanji, that I’m denying Eren the probably long awaited happy celebrations. I mean, Hanji didn’t say it directly, but her neighing to try and get into the festive cheer _for once_ got her point across. The thing is, I still don’t want to do any festivities, so this small plant seemed like a good compromise. ‘Mm. Put it wherever you like.’

‘C-Can I put it on the kitchen table?’ He sounds like the smile is splitting his face in two.

‘Sure, brat. I said you can put it wherever you want.’

‘Oh, okay, okay. Oh! Can we-!’ He starts off in an over-excited tone, but then restrains himself and continues in a more level tone. ‘Can we decorate it later?’

Well, I did _not_ see that coming. Although, I probably should have, right? ‘Uh, I uh, don’t actually have any decorations.’ Well now I just feel stupid. Fuck that plant.

‘We could make some? That would be fun! I- I mean… I, you know- if you’d have some free time. A-and you’d want to.’ He stammers a bit, his voice quietening a bit at the last few words.

It’s not like I have anything else to do; no more articles need to be written until the second week of January, which means a ton of free time. Also, Eren seems to be excited about the idea, so why not humour him? ‘Sure. After lunch?’

‘Ah! That’s great, thank you, thank you!’ I think he actually jumps up in joy. ‘I’ll get the food ready right now!’

As he runs off and I hear him all but _slam_ the little tree on the table and then rummage through cupboards for pots, I take the chance to sneak out the small gifts from my coat, hold them close to my body and bring them to my room, hoping that the boy is too preoccupied with getting dinner ready as quickly as possible to notice the wrapped items in my arms.

 

 

The dumplings are fantastic, which isn’t a surprise at all. What makes it even better is the blueberry tea from Hanji; not the cherry one; that would be for a special occasion, and I make sure to tell Eren not to brew it otherwise.

As the taste of the fruity food and tea still lingers on my tongue, I find myself sitting in the kitchen again, with Eren’s chair pulled up closer beside mine, and strips and scraps of paper strewn around the table surface as far as I can reach. The lack of coloured paper in my house didn’t deter the kid in the slightest; he quickly decided that white decorations will work even better. _They’ll be more like snow_ , he said. Still, when I woke up today, I didn’t expect to end up doing art and crafts, making a Christmas tree chain out of interlacing thin tiny loops of white paper. I feel somewhat ridiculous, but Eren’s _genuine_ excitement remedies that to some extent.

When that’s done, Eren shows me a neat trick of folding a paper in squares, and then into a triangle a number of times. Then he said he’s cutting out some random patterns, cutting off the top of the cone, and on the outer edge of the triangle making it more round, and giving me a chance to trace my fingers over the paper. I hear rustling as he seems to be unfolding the paper which he then passes to me, and I was right; once the paper is unfolded I can feel the regular cut-out patterns underneath my fingertips.

‘They’re like snowflakes! Wanna make one with me?’

God _, Levi. You’re_ twenty-nine _in a few days and you’re just playing here like a child? I don’t know if it’s more funny or pathetic; you used to instil fear in students and staff alike, and now you’re making snowflakes?_ Fuck _, you’ve fallen low._

‘Yeah, why not.’ I answer to silence my thoughts; they’re awful, but they’re true. I’m not that powerful man anymore; I’m a bug underneath that memory’s boot. But I don’t want to dwell on this. Neither do I want to deny Eren these little joys; he sounds sincerely happy, relaxed, and seems to have his guard down to the point where he’s not afraid of taking the lead in the activity – even if it’s so childish. And no matter how hard I try and how much my pride screams at me, I can’t deny that this little domestic scene – yet another one – feels somewhat… pleasant. I’m _making_ something; as pitiful as it is, there’s the tiniest pleasure in creating something from scratch, something to run my finger over and be able to perceive shapes which _I’ve_ created. A soft blanket of just _calmness_ wraps itself around me along with the joyful boy’s presence, and there’s an overwhelming feeling of just _peace_.

So I fold the paper he’s given me, feeling around the edges, trying to keep them somewhat in line. I fail, of course. Just as I fail in cutting out the patterns neatly. Is it any wonder? I can’t fucking _see_ , and I don’t fancy cutting my goddamn fingers off. With the paper in one hand and scissors in the other, I awkwardly try to pull off a triangle that I tried to cut but didn’t cut far enough; it’s not easy – the paper is thick, folded repeatedly. Annoyance is quick to flare up. My teeth clench. I hiss. I have the urge to toss the scissors across the room. _Who’s the brat now. And a pathetic one, at that_.

‘Oh, I think we just need to cut a bit further? Here.’

A warm, timid hand wraps itself around mine before I have the time to follow through with my sudden outburst. For a moment, that’s all he does. Just holds my hand. Perhaps testing if I’ll allow it, or if I’ll lash out at him with the scissors. I can only let him hold me and wince at the thought that he’s pacifying another one of my tantrums.

Then, encouraged by my lack of reaction, he wraps his fingers around mine so that he has some control over how the scissors move. He guides my hand and I feel the metal in my hand bump softly into the paper in my other. ‘Just make a little cut here.’ I open the scissors further slowly, continuing to let him guide me into the right spot. When I start pressing the blades together, I feel resistance at the tip, but there’s wiggle room to the sides of them; it seems like the right place. ‘Yeah, just there.’ With a bit of pressure, the bit of paper falls to the table with the smallest sound. The warm hand lingers for just a second longer than I suppose is necessary, but I find that I don’t really mind. But then it’s gone. ‘Cool, you should unfold it!’ And so I do. Which is another annoying task; cut-out sections of the decoration latch onto each other and I feel resistance. My fingers itch to just pull the thing apart by force and satisfy my ears with the sound of it ripping. But Eren is here again, leaning more into me so that our shoulders touch. I don’t know how he does it, but he makes the irrational anger seep away; he makes me try again with nothing more than that gentle touch and, with a bit of fumbling, I finally unravel the decoration, trying to gauge out its appearance with my fingers. ‘I love it! Those stripes here look great.’ Once again, the boy takes my now empty hand and ever so gently pulls my finger towards an incision in the paper to show me what he’s talking about. I don’t respond. I hate the small flicker of sense of accomplishment, and the utter avalanche of feeling absolutely _pathetic_ that followed. _This is what you settle for? This is what makes you feel accomplished? Disgusting._

I clench my hand underneath the table, not wanting to visibly show my inner turmoil. All I want is to enjoy the moment of peace that Eren created, without being ridiculed by my own thoughts and foolish pride; is that really too much to ask for?

Eren decides we made enough and pulls the ‘tree’ – it’s hysterical calling this tiny, thirty centimetre plant a _tree_ – closer towards us and we stick the little fragile branches through holes and loops in the paper decorations until they all hang from it. most definitely creating the most pitiful and pathetic display. ‘It looks awesome! Feel it!’

The pot slides towards me and I touch the decorated plant. That gives me nothing. Just needles with random smooth surface here and there. ‘It’s nice.’ It’s not nice. Not one bit. There’s nothing nice about this; there’s only frustration, which makes my fingers blind too. The dangerous thoughts approach, even though I forbade myself from going near them long ago.

I can’t _see._ I’m fucking _blind._ But… I really want to _see_ that tree, with my eyes. I want to see the green contrasting with the white. See the mess I’ve surely made from the loops in the chain, the jagged and uneven edges that are there, no doubt. Fuck, I don’t even know what colour the pot is. And shit, I want to see the boy that is so excited about all of this, as if he’s never done anything more fun in his entire life. I want to have a face to associate with his voice. Right now, he’s a faceless figure to me; he speaks without a mouth and cries without any eyes. He’s an entity with a body taller but skinnier than mine, but his skin and mop of a hair have no colour. The only thing I know for sure, and the only things I recognise him by is his voice, and the conscious and subconscious emotions and sensations his presence brings. Peace. Warmth. Worry. Care. Inadequacy. Embarrassment. But most of all; calm. I never asked Hanji about his appearance; somehow, it was never important. What did it matter? Whether his hair is blond or brown, he was still starved and needed to be reminded to eat. I knew his eyes were filled with constant fear, always searching for a threat, and I had to ensure he didn’t see any; whether his irises were blue or brown or green. His skin tone made no difference on his anxiety. But now… now I just want to _see_ him. Just for a moment, just to get a glimpse. Just a peek. So that he’s not a faceless entity in my mind; so that I might _know_ him as _Eren_ instead. But I can’t. This is not a game, and I cannot cheat. I can’t look between my fingers in secret, then shut my eyes quickly before life catches me red-handed. This is reality. I have to accept that I’ll only have impressions and never the true image of the boy whose place steadily grows in my life. No matter how much I scream and cry and pray, I’ll never have the exact face, the exact smile to match his cheerful laugh. I’ll never see the stupid reindeer patters on the socks Hanji gave me. I’ll never see the photographs from Armin’s travels, that he can’t stop talking about. I’ll never see the world changing. Because I’m blind, and that’s never going to change. 

‘Levi? After I clean this up, do… would you- do you think you could, um, help me with integration? I-I don’t really understand the method by parts. But- but only if you still have time, of course.’

Splendid. That’s a splendid idea. Anything to pull me away from the grief catching up with me again. I haven’t grieved. Not properly. I rejected every shoulder that offered to accept my tears. ‘Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.’

 

 

The 25th wakes me up with a smell of cherries; I would have happily stayed in bed and basked in the heavenly aroma, but obvious curiosity got the better of me and had me staggering into the kitchen in my pyjama pants and with a stifled yawn.

‘Oh! Levi!’ He’s up already? I don’t know what time it is, but it feels too early. For either of us to be up, actually.

But then I hear the oven door slam closed and I frown. I asked him not to do this. I thought I made it clear; no celebrations. ‘Eren… Eren, I told you not to-’

‘Please, w-wait!’ I fall silent, surprised at the interruption. ‘Please, d-don’t be angry. It- It’s not even cake, i-it’s just pie! Pies aren’t anything special, r-right? A-and it’s with cherries. Ha-Hanji said you like them? It’s just… I-It doesn’t even have candles or anything!’

And how can I argue with that? How can I argue with his good intentions and his effort and his pleading? That pleading, when he’s done nothing wrong; just like he pleaded for forgiveness after _I_ threatened him with that gun. ‘Eren…’

But he misinterprets my sigh. ‘I’m… I’m sorry. I-I’ll throw it away.’

His sad, quiet voice is like a hammer shattering my heart. ‘No! Eren, no. Sorry, no, look-’ I take a breath, realising I’m rambling, and take an instinctive step forward. ‘This is good. Pie is good. Let’s… Let’s have some now, hm? While it’s warm?’ I feel like I’m trying to apologise to a puppy that I’ve accidentally stepped on.

But if I’ve hurt him, he doesn’t let me pick up on it. He quickly takes out two plates and forks, setting a slice of pie on each. We sit at the table again; it’s so familiar now, we spend so much time together like this. It feels like he’s always been sitting here; I barely remember the times when I used to sit here alone and frankly, I don’t want to remember. This is much better.

The pie is heavenly. It’s actually ridiculous how good of a cook – and baker – he is. A happy sigh escapes my lips as I lean back in pure bliss. ‘This is lovely, Eren. I… _God_. I don’t remember the last time when I ate such a good pie.’

And I mean it, I don’t just say it to make him happy; he really is just that good. I come to the conclusion that maybe I don’t mind a little bit of that type of celebration. His voice is quiet and bashful when he thanks me, saying he’s glad I like it, but I can hear the smile in it and it puts me at ease. When we finish up the delicious treat and our forks scrape for the last bit of fruit and crumbs, I ask him to cut us both another slice and we finish the seconds in peaceful, comfortable silence. He puts the plates away.

‘L-Levi…’ This time, his voice is unsure, and the stutter worries me; these days, he only does that when he’s nervous – he manages to stop it otherwise. ‘Just- Can you, um, wait here for a second? Just- Just a second, okay?’ I hear him get up.

I frown in confusion. ‘Sure, brat.’

His quick footsteps fade away into his room, but he’s back in a quick moment, sitting back in his usual seat at the table. I can hear paper rustling. ‘H… Happy birthday, Levi. A-and, merry Christmas.’ He puts something in front of me on the table. I reach for it. It’s a smooth surface, standing upright, but it sways under a gentle push. Exploring further, I touch ribbons at the top edge of the object; two of them. I tug at them, and the object moves. It’s a bag.

I feel my eyes widen. It’s a _gift._

‘It’s… It’s not much, I-I know.’ He sounds genuinely apologetic. Meanwhile, I put the bag on my lap, tentatively reaching inside. ‘I wish I could have gotten you m-more, but… But I don’t have anything. I don’t… have any money.’ There are two items in the bag; one which feels like a folded thin cardboard, and another is something soft, like fabric. ‘Mi- Hanji payed for these anyway, s-so they… They’re not even from me, n-now that I think of it, I’m sor-’

‘Eren.’

‘S-sorry. I’m rambling.’

‘Don’t worry.’ I take out the soft item first. There are ribbons around it, but they slide off easily enough. I’m somewhat relieved when the cloth doesn’t split into two, like in the case of Hanji’s gift. Instead, it’s soft, but it unfolds into something long. ‘A scarf?’

‘Y-yes. It’s like the one you had before, the navy one. It… got ruined after that accident, when… you wrapped it around my leg. I, uh, I figured they never gave it back to you, in the hospital. Never saw you wearing it again…’ That was true; they never gave it back to me. It’s not like they would wash the blood off. They must have thrown it away.

I squeeze the fluffy wool lightly, feeling for the thickness. Bringing it to my face, I nuzzle slightly into the softness. No matter how much I try, I can’t stop my eyes from feeling heavy with moisture. _Come on, Levi. Don’t cry over a fucking scarf. But it’s not just a scarf, is it? God, it’s not._ He went out there, probably with Hanji, and thought of me, of what I would like. _He thought of me_. ‘Eren…’ I’m surprised at how low and heavy with emotion my voice is. A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down. ‘That’s… perfect, I… I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much.’ I bring the fabric to my nose and close my eyes. It’s warm, oh, so warm. Just like the boy that gave it to me. Giving into the welcoming sensation, I wrap the scarf around my neck, feeling it tickle my naked skin. I smile. ‘Thank you.’ Expressing my gratitude once more, I take out the second object. ‘A card?’

‘Y-yes. I’m sorry, I, um, I used the computer without asking, but- but I wanted it to be a surprise, but I had to- to learn how… how to write, the, um, th-the card.’

He’s nervous again. Be it because he thinks I’ll get annoyed that he didn’t ask before using the computer, or because he feels guilty or awkward about drawing attention to my disability again – I’m not sure. But all I feel is warmth in my chest of such great intensity that it spreads over my entire being; I’m engulfed in it. My waterline grows heavier when I give a quick swipe across the thin card, and sure enough, feel the little bumps underneath. My heart clenches. ‘Er-’ It’s surprising how it suddenly became hard to speak, and how my breath shakes. My brow furrows with the effort of keeping the tears at bay. He willingly made an effort to step into my dark world, to reach out to me in a way this broken body can understand. _You’re such a fucking baby. I know you’re pathetic, but this really isn’t like you; this is a new low. Get a fucking grip._ ‘Eren, this is. I don’t know what to say, this is… So thoughtful. I really appreciate you doing this. Thank you.’

He breathes out a relived sigh, then takes another deep breath. ‘Could you… read it, um, later? Maybe?’

I feel myself smile softly. It’s a nice feeling, to smile. ‘Sure.’ Holding the card to my chest, it’s now my turn to get up. ‘Now then, you wait here for a minute, okay?’

Without waiting for his answer, I make my way back to my room, keeping the scarf around my neck and setting the card standing on my desk. In exchange, I take two gift bags out of my drawer and bring them back to the kitchen. As I set them in front of Eren on the table, I hear the boy gasp with a shaky breath.

‘Merry Christmas, Eren.’ A few moments pass and I don’t hear him move. ‘You’re not gonna open them?’

‘These… These are… for me?’ He sounds almost _breathless_ with wonder; as if he just saw water turn to wine, or a dead man come back to life, right in front of his eyes, or who knows what.

‘Tch. Of course, brat, you dumbo.’ I huff a laugh. ‘Open Hanji’s gift first, alright? She said hers is the one with a puppy in a Christmas hat on the bag. You know, I just want to make sure as soon as possible that she didn’t put a bomb or a beehive in there.’

Finally, he laughs, and finally, I hear him reach for one of the bags and ruffle through the contents. Papers are torn, wrappers are squeezed. He laughs again. ‘It’s sweets!’ A plastic bag tears. ‘Have one! They look so good, it looks like toffee! With chocolate inside!’ I can’t help but smirk at his excitement; he literally is the typical kid with candy on Christmas day.

I open my palm and he _pours_ the sweets onto it – whatever happened to ‘have _one’_? ‘Whoa okay, okay, that’s enough! Thanks.’

I pop one candy into my mouth as the boy tears into another gift; the toffee gets pleasantly soft in my mouth and chocolate floods my tongue when I bite into it. Not bad. I hear a box being opened, and then another, genuine laugh. ‘It’s an alarm clock, hahah!’

‘What?’

‘Yeah! And there’s a little note here, too. It says, _‘I saw the abomination on your desk; I don’t know which World War I bunker Levi dug it out of, but here is something nicer, that won’t wake you up with the sound of demonic screeching’_.’ He’s laughing in earnest by the time he finishes reading. It’s a beautiful sound, and I wish he hadn’t muffled it with his hand.

‘Oh my God, that four-eyes, she’s ridiculous.’

‘I love it!’ I hear him slide the box away, still giggling.

‘Alright, open my one. The bigger one first, okay?’

‘Kay!’ All the shyness is gone by now, replaced with pure joy, and I couldn’t be happier to hear him like this. When he tears off the wrapping paper, I smile as he gasps, realising the contents. ‘It’s- It’s so beautiful!’ He flips through the glossy pages, and there’s a slight moment of sadness in my heart at the thought that I won’t see the pictures in the book I gave him; I specifically asked Hanji to find a book about the ocean, seas, cliffs, and beaches – there’s something about water that screams _freedom,_ and I wanted Eren to catch a glimpse of it, even if just through photographs. But then I hear sniffling.

‘Eren?’

‘I…’ Another sniff. ‘It’s just… s-so lovely. And- and you gave it to m-me. This… I don’t think I’ve ever gotten such a beautiful gift, I…’ He laughs lightly, though a little shakily. ‘Even… Even at home, we didn’t really have money f-for gifts. It was usually just… practical gifts and s-stuff.’ My chest clenches momentarily at his words. I don’t really know what to say to him. Should I comfort him? But he doesn’t sound upset per se. ‘Ah, I’ll- I’ll open the second gift now?’ Since he makes it sound like a question, I nod, and hear him reach into the bag again.

Now it’s my turn to be on edge. Giving gifts shouldn’t be this stressful, but my mind screams at me that this was a terribly bad idea; he’ll actually take it as offensive. And why wouldn’t he? ‘L-Levi?’ There it is; the confusion. Bitterness will surely follow. ‘A… collar?’

A collar. A brown leather collar with silken lining on the inside, that peeks out slightly onto the outer edges. Yet again, I needed Hanji’s help; the collars varied in the colour of silk, and I was inclined to go with either red or black, but she seemed convinced that green – _emerald green_ , to quote her words exactly – was the best one. I trusted her judgement; not like I could form my own.

_An ordinary, simple leather collar. That’s my gift to you._

How ridiculous.

‘Eren, I know it’s… It’s a shitty gift but. Hear me out.’ I sigh, running my hand through my hair. ‘You- You _have to_ wear a collar. By law, you have to. But… I don’t want you to wear the one you have on now. With that stupid fucking sensor and that goddamn keycode.’ I sigh heavily again; I just want him to understand. ‘It’s like- like you’re some object in a fucking store, and have to be checked out before you can leave. I just- Shit. I wanted to have you wear something more normal. As normal as a person wearing a collar can be, I suppose…’

_Faith that you won’t run away. Trust. That’s my gift to you._

_But do you even want it? Do you even care enough to accept it? Will you find any value in it?_

‘Levi.’ The way he says my name, bursting with emotions that I can’t even begin to comprehend makes me wish again that I could look up into his face and decipher what he’s feeling. ‘Levi.’ This time, I can only hear tears in his voice. Before I can react, sobbing erupts in the room. My chest feels like it drowns in molten metal. The last time I’ve heard him cry like that was when he sat on my lap on that day he felt so lonely. His snivelling is uncontrolled, even if he tries to restrain it and cover his mouth. I’ve hurt him. I reach out towards him but quickly pull my arm back; would he even want me to comfort him? Could I? Maybe he doesn’t want me to touch him. Maybe he’ll start calling me ‘sir’ again. I’ve hurt him. ‘ _Levi_ …’

I can’t stand it. ‘Eren, I…’ I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.

‘Thank you.’

What did he say?

‘I know what you… I u-understand.’ He tries to speak between quietening sobs. ‘I understand. Thank you, for… For your trust.’ He doesn’t hate me. He _understands_. The relief makes me dizzy. ‘And- And it’s a b-beautiful collar, actually.’ Finally, I can hear the beginning of a returning smile through the tears. ‘It’s so nice. And soft. And I- I love the colours.’ Well, I’ll be damned. Four-eyes was right. ‘Can I… can I wear it now?’

I have to nod first, before I find my voice again. ‘Lean forward.’

I don’t hear it, but I assume he did as I asked. Reaching an arm towards him, my fingers touch against his chin, my other hand following suit. They travel lower and around to the back of his neck. I feel him shiver, and that’s when I realise I’ve been holding my breath. I find the three small buttons on the device, pressing them in a specific sequence that makes the collar unlock with the softest clicking sound. He hears it, and feels the restriction loosen; his gasp echoes in my ears. How does he feel, being ‘free’ for a short moment? But knowing that he’ll be collared in a second again?

Leaning back, I slide the offensive electronic collar away. The new one nudges lightly against my other hand where it rests on the table. ‘L-Levi? Won’t you…?’

No. I won’t. I can’t do it. I can’t collar him again. Maybe I’m selfish. Maybe I’m cruel. But I can’t chain him to me again; I _am_ cruel, because I rather he chains himself to me instead – an illusion of being able to give him a choice. ‘Mm. How about you put it on yourself? So that, you know. So that it’s not too tight.’

‘Oh. O-okay.’ I’m glad he doesn’t push it. It’s a short while before he tentatively speaks up again. ‘Do you… want to check it?’

I raise my hand, high, towards his voice again, my fingers meeting his hair. I travel to his cheek, brushing it lightly with my thumb, but not lower. ‘No. I trust you.’

And just like that, it pops. The tension snaps and lifts, leaving us blissfully relieved. It doesn’t surprise me when I feel his face pull and contort with new sobs, and neither do the fresh tears that fall from his eyes; it feels like the natural aftermath. I don’t want to hear him cry, but maybe he needs this. Maybe he needs to wrap his fingers around mine and nuzzle his cheek into my knuckles. Maybe he needs a comforting touch. So I let him take it as he sobs my name over and over.

Leaning forward, I pull him into my chest slowly, holding one hand over his head and another around his shoulder, letting him cry into the scarf. ‘Shhh. Shhh, Eren. You’re alright now. Everything is okay. Shhh.’

‘I’ll n-never… I swear, I’ll never- never betray your trust. I’ll… I’ll b-be good, I promise.’

‘Eren. Kid, you _are_ good. And I’m happy that you are here. And, I hope that one day, maybe- maybe you can be happy here, too.’

He tries to say something but it’s lost between the sobs, which don’t stop for another while.

 

 

The time between Christmas and New Year’s Eve must be one of the strangest ones in the year; you don’t know _what_ you’re doing, the days blending together and dragging on, but at the same time, they only last a moment. Even for me, despite the fact that I’m not particularly looking forward to the end of the year; not like I’ll be celebrating it anyway. Still, we find ourselves not doing anything in particular, napping on the couch, revising differentiation and integration, watching – or for me, listening to – lame Christmas movies on television, drinking tea, listening to Eren describe the photographs in the book I gave him, and just generally lazing about.

Before I know it, it’s the 30th of December and my phone buzzes with an email notification when I get out of the shower. Plugging in the earphones, I listen to what turns out to be a recorded voice message.

_‘Hi, Levi-doc! It’s Armin here.’_

Well, that’s surprising. He already wished me merry Christmas and a happy new year when he was here. More than once, obviously. Wouldn’t be like Armin to settle for just saying it once.

_‘I hope you had a good Christmas. You said you didn’t have any plans for New Year’s Eve, and I was talking to grandpa about Eren a bit. He said you want him to meet some new people? I think that’d be really cool for him! So I have this idea.’_

Say, when is this boy _not_ full of ideas?

_‘A few of the guys from the course will be coming over to my place and we’re going to have a little house party of our own. Sasha broke her leg so we’re not going out anywhere. It’d just be me then, Sasha, Connie, Bertholdt, Annie, and Reiner. Maybe Eren could come too? I figured that wouldn’t be too many people, so he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable? And you know the guys; Connie and Sasha might be loud, but they’re easy to get along with, and so are the others. And you know us; we won’t be getting mad drunk or anything – well, maybe Reiner, but when he does, he just becomes an even bigger huggy-bear. And you could come, too! Grandpops would love that, because he doesn’t have any plans either. Let me know what you think! Sorry for the short notice by the way, but I hope you don’t mind. Bye, then!’_

When the initial shock wears off, I still stand there for another while with the phone in my hand, mulling over the boy’s offer.

Maybe it’s not that mad? First, Eren’s a teenager; what kind of teenager wouldn’t want to celebrate New Year’s Eve? Second, I’ve already robbed him of proper Christmas celebrations. Third; am I not the one who decided Eren needs to be exposed to more people, make new friends, and just get out of this place for a while? And finally; I do trust Armin. While I’m still in very brief touch with some of my other students, had any of them asked me to take Eren out, I wouldn’t even consider it. But I know Armin, and I know his grandfather; they’re both responsible people, and in addition, they’ve met Eren before – the boy seemed to take a liking to them, too. He could have fun for once, instead of being stuck here with me. This is actually a _really good_ idea.

 

 

‘B-but! Levi! You- you want me to go alone? Why won’t you come as well?’ Of course that would be the first thing he’d pick up on.

I sigh. ‘I’ve told you before, Eren. I’m… not in the mood for celebrating these days. And it would do you good to spend a bit of time away from me, you know? You’ve been stuck here with me for so long; you should spend some time with other people. And like I said, I would never agree if I didn’t know them. But you’ve met Armin; he’s nice, right? I trust him. I know he wouldn’t come up with anything stupid or lie to me.’ Whether I’m managing to convince him is unknown; he doesn’t say anything. ‘And if something goes wrong, or if you don’t like the people, or if you just want to come back, then Mr. Arlert will call me for you and I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up. How does that sound?’

Now it’s his turn to sigh. ‘But, what if…’ Another sigh. ‘I mean- Won’t they… mind? What I am…’

‘ _Who_ you are, is a teenager that needs to have some fun. And like I said; I know these people. If you’re not convinced, think about Armin; he doesn’t look like someone who’d hang around people who are jerks, right?’

He gives a little unhappy groan. ‘B-But… what will they even want from me? What will I do with…f- _for_ them?’

That makes me cringe inwardly. Does he really fear there are some ulterior motives here? ‘Look, you’ll just have a bit of fun, I dunno- Armin is a big gamer I think. As in, video games. So he might show you some. He’ll probably order something nice to eat, maybe a pizza. You’ll get to know the other guys, chat with them a bit. Then you’ll probably have some champagne to celebrate midnight, then some time later yous will go to sleep. Something along those lines, you know? And I pick you up in the morning.’ I take a heavy breath. ‘But; you don’t want to stay – you call me, and I pick you up earlier. As simple as that. Do we have a deal? Come on. It’s at least worth a try?’

I can basically hear the gears in his head turning; I’m quite certain it’s a matter of ‘I want to but I’m scared’. And that’s understandable; but I’m giving him an option of backing out if he needs to. And he won’t know until he tries, right?

I’m starting to wonder whom I’m trying to convince that it’s a good idea; him, myself, or us both.

‘Okay. I’ll… I’ll go.’ He still doesn’t sound persuaded. That makes two of us, I suppose.

But it’s for his own good. Isn’t it?

 

 

The rest of the day and the majority of the following one pass as usual. I’ve messaged Armin back to let him know Eren will be joining their little gathering and he replied almost immediately, ecstatic, yet a little dejected that I won’t be staying myself. I don’t elaborate on my reasons to him though.

When evening approaches, it doesn’t go unnoticed by me that Eren spends a ridiculous amount of time in the shower. But then again, am I really surprised? He probably wants to look his best when meeting with a group of people for the first time in a long while.

Him getting dressed is another lengthy matter – but I have no problem with it, at least it gives me something to do – and he lists out all the things there are in his wardrobe, asking me what would be best for that kind of outing. We settle for a pair of black jeans and a grey shirt. Obviously, I don’t have the slightest idea about how he looks, so they were just wild guesses; but since the shirt fits him, that’s what he ends up wearing.

We leave the house and for the first time, I don’t have to worry about the keycode to his collar.

It is only when we’re on the bus that I start to worry that I’m forcing him into something he doesn’t want to do. Would he even tell me if he would be too scared to go? What is he feeling right now? Does he try to appear calm, swaying gently beside me with the bus’ motions, but is there a storm in his mind? ‘Hey, Eren. Are you nervous?’

‘Um… A little.’ His voice is surprisingly clear and not fearful, like I worried it would be. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? ‘But, um, you… You wouldn’t let me go if I were to get hurt. Right?’

‘Ere- What, of course not! No one is going to hurt you there, you hear me? I’m only letting you go because I know you’ll be safe there, and because I believe it’ll be good for you to go out for a bit, okay?’

I pause, surprised when I feel knuckles against my thigh. A silent, shy plea for comfort. I oblige without hesitation, taking his hand in mine. ‘And… you won’t be angry if… something happens and I want to go home early?’

Some sort of strong emotion pierces my heart at his use of word _home_ , but I don’t understand what it is. ‘Of course I won’t. I said so, didn’t I? That was part of the deal, right?’

‘Right.’ His hand squeezes mine tighter.

We remain silent for the rest of the bus ride. We don’t speak when we walk, except for me giving Eren directions. It is only when we stand in front of the door with number ‘27’ on it and I unclasp Eren’s leash that the boy finally speaks up, apprehension clear in his tone. ‘Levi… Levi…’

‘What is it? Hey. Deep breaths, okay?’

‘Y-yes. But. Levi.’ He sounds almost desperate in the way he calls my name. ‘Y-you’ll come back for me, right? You’ll come back in the morning, right, Levi?’

I swear, this kid is going to send me to the ER sooner or later for cardiac arrest with the way he makes my heart shatter. ‘Of course. I won’t leave you. Just like we said; I’ll be here in the morning, I’ll bring you home, and then we’ll have tea and you’ll tell me all about the great night you had. Alright?’

‘Y-yeah.’

‘Good. Good. Okay. You ready to ring the bell?’

With a sigh, he finally answers. ‘I… I am.’

And so he does. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that the blond kid was on the other side of the door, just waiting eagerly to open it; he’s standing in the doorway within seconds.

‘Eren! Hi! So glad you came! Levi-doc, hi!’

‘H-Hi, Armin.’ Eren seems to be at a loss for words for a moment, but then quickly adds. ‘O-Oh! Thank you, um, for inviting me, it’s- it’s really kind of you.’

‘Hey no worries, we’re gonna have a ton of fun, I got this new cool video game that we can all play at once! But alright, alright, I’m not gonna keep you in the doorway, come in!’ I hate the way my heart sinks when I _feel,_ more than hear the boy being pulled towards the door. ‘Levi… are you sure you don’t want to stay? It would be real cool if you did…’

‘No. I, uh, no. But thanks, kid. But remember; I trust you, understand? Take care of Eren for me.’

He doesn’t seem to make much of my serious tone and laughs. ‘Sure! Don’t worry, and don’t make it sound so serious, he’s not going away for a month, right?’

‘Right.’ I murmur, taking out the cane from my pocket and unfolding it.

‘L-Levi.’ Eren speaks up again. ‘Happy… Happy New Year.’

My chest aches again. ‘Yeah. Yeah you too, brats.’ With that, I finally take my leave and hear the door close behind me.

 

 

Getting home – more specifically, getting on the right bus – is a tedious ordeal; having Eren accompany me or Hanji drive me around made me forget just how awful it can be at times. Worn down Braille numbers on worn down bus stop sign poles might tell me whether or not I’m in the right place, but there’s no telling which bus is approaching before it actually stops, unless there’s someone else at the stop and I can make myself look pitiful and ask to let me know when my bus comes; naturally, just as my luck would have it, I can’t hear anyone else around me now.

When I hear the tyres of the first bus come to a halt against the wet road and the few passengers start to get off and rush past me, I swallow my pride and try to ask for the number of the vehicle.

No one answers.

My fingers twitch but I get on anyway, gripping the handrail tight once I get a hold of it. I hear the doors slide closed behind me, making anxiety bubble up but I keep it down and repeat my question, loud enough for the bus driver and the few passengers in the front – if there are any – to hear me. ‘What number bus is this?’

I don’t know who answers; there’s too much noise all around me, but they don’t sound happy. ‘Eleven.’

‘Wait!’ I shout before the bus can leave the stop. ‘Let me out. This isn’t my bus.’

I wish the people murmuring among themselves had the decency to put some effort into keeping their voices down enough for me to not hear their displeased comments. Bastards. But I pay them no mind; the door slides open again and I stumble back out onto the pavement, feeling steady and safe on my own two feet.

The next bus turns out to be the one I want and I take a seat in the designated disabled spot, right beside the speaker which announces each stop. Like a fucking invalid that I am. Disgusting.

The rest of the journey back home passes without any other distressing incidents. I walk up the stairs, expecting to feel better and more relaxed once I’m inside my apartment.

Wrong.

The moment I step in, the silence almost throws me off my feet. It’s physical. It’s dense. It’s so overwhelming, that for a moment, I almost lose my bearings and start to wonder if I accidentally stepped into someone else’s flat that just happened to be open. But no. There’s still the keypad on the wall. The coat hanger still stands in the place where it always is. The brief smell of spaghetti we had earlier on still lingers. It is my flat alright. But it _feels_ _alien_. It’s too quiet. Too cold. Yeah. It’s cold. That’s the only reason why I don’t take the new navy scarf off.

This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be feeling awkward stepping into my own apartment, sitting in my own kitchen, or making myself a goddamn cup of tea with my own kettle. But I do. And subconsciously, I know why. It’d be stupid of me to try and deny it, pretend I don’t realise it’s the lack of the happy, bubbly presence of a certain young man. I know it is, but I try to keep the thoughts away. Really now, who became more dependent on the other?

Not having any real plans, I take the cup with me and make my way to my computer, intending to try and write something for my next article. Each word comes with great difficulty though, I make continuous typos, and nothing sounds right. Still, I try and plough through a few short paragraphs, hoping to improve it later on.

I run out of tea way too quickly. Or maybe a lot of time has passed since my back starts to ache; I don’t really know, I’ve lost track. As I get up to make another cup, my hand brushes against something light on my desk, making it topple over, and I realise with a start that somehow, I still haven’t read Eren’s card. I should probably do that. Without much thought, I bring it with me to the kitchen.

While the water boils, I sit down at the kitchen table, taking Eren’s spot instead of my usual one; it’s just closer to the kettle, that’s all. Opening the card, I discover that both sides are fully covered with Braille. He sure had a lot to say, especially since it’s a large card. Before I start worrying about what could he _possibly_ be saying for so long, I begin to trace my fingers over the little bumps.

 

_Dear Levi,_

_Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday! I wish you_

I can’t help but gasp at the sudden realisation; he actually made the effort to use correct symbols for capital letters, the comma, the exclamation mark. My chest clenches. He must have read up enough on the writing system to know that, and to know the rough letter size and spacing. The letters _are_ actually slightly larger than what I’m used to reading, but not significantly; they’re still clear enough to read, and better to go a bit bigger than smaller, I suppose. I return to his words.

 

_I wish you everything best – all the happiness, health, and love, and more satisfaction with your work._

 

I huff. As if.

 

_There’s of course this one thing I wish for you the most – your eyesight. I’ll hope and I’ll pray. If I could and if it would be ever possible, I’ll give you one of my own eyes, and it still won’t be enough to thank you for all you’ve done for me._

_I wish I could say more on this little card, but then again, words aren’t enough to express my thanks. You’ve clothed me, fed me, gave me a warm bed, but more importantly, you gave me kindness and my dignity back. My humanity. A new life, new home. You gave me as much freedom as someone like me can have, and more. How can a trivial ‘thank you’ be enough? But that’s all I can say._

_Please, do me the honour of accepting my most genuine gratitude and allowing me to help and support and stand by you, however I can, in whatever you do._

_I know I still stammer sometimes, or slip up and don’t call you by name. But Levi, for what it’s worth, I’m so happy here. I’m happy to be able to live with and cook and clean for and learn from someone as wonderful and intelligent and caring as you._

_Thank you._

_Eren_

 

I only realise I’m crying when I hear the soft pats that my heavy tears make on the card, and it takes me by surprise. Wiping at my eyes viciously only makes more of the pathetic water spill. I sigh in frustration at my inability to stop it and hear my breath shake. The edge of the card taps softly against the wooden table; my hand is trembling.

My whole body is shaking. Quaking with the desperate need to let the tears flow, with the silent sobs. The boy’s phantom voice echoes in my ears. _I’m so happy here_.

And I can’t keep myself in one piece anymore. Everything falls apart; my mind, my façade, my strength. I hang my head low; it drops between my shaking shoulders as my hands curl into fists on the table. I brace myself against the pain, against the reality of the world as the shell that I’ve built around myself breaks. And surely, the agony comes with brutal force.

I shout. I cry. I sob. I wail in pain. If I weren’t already there, I would say the ache is blinding. And once I start grieving, I cannot stop. I cry about my dead mother, who plucked food away from her own mouth so that I could live. I cry about the childhood ripped away from me so early. I cry about my eyes, the accident leaving them as nothing but useless organs sitting needlessly in my skull and ripping my beloved work out of my hands. And finally, I cry about the innocent boy who suddenly appeared in my life; about his own undeserved suffering, about his pure, hurt heart. That boy, who’s surely and steadily taking me apart, who’s teaching me how to feel again and how to be a part of the outside world once more.

Over my crying, I can hear the soft explosions of fireworks from outside the living room window. Stupidly, that only makes me cry harder. It makes me think of that boy, surrounded by new friends, celebrating. In my mind, I can see a cheerful group of young people, counting down to midnight, clinking their champagne glasses, while I sit here in the darkness. And I’m jealous. I’m selfish, because I wish with all my heart that this boy could be here.

But that’s what’s best for him. He’s a creature of light, spreading his wings and learning to fly again. I belong here, crawling in the shadows. That’s how things should be. But this doesn’t diminish the piercing pain in my heart, doesn’t lift the loneliness. How silly. This isn’t the first New Year’s Eve that I’m spending alone. I’m used to it, and I never minded it. Or so I told myself. But now I can’t lie to myself anymore.

Eren Jäger, with his pure soul, has stolen mine, and all I wish for at the moment is to hear his voice filling up those lonely walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you's enjoyed those 18k words of Levi angst lol  
> As usual, thank you for all your support and all the kudos and comments! ❤
> 
> EDIT: Due to vacation, I won't update till beginning of July, sorry dears :c But hopefully I'll get to write enough over the holidays to make the next two or so updates a bit quicker ^^'


	14. The Awakening

‘Levi!’ The relief I feel once I see his face in the doorway is almost overwhelming, just as the urge to hug the man tight. ‘You came back for me!’

‘Tch, brat. Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?’ It’s actually quite ridiculous just how much I missed that little wrinkle in his brow, that light-hearted way in which he says the nickname; over the course of only one night. ‘Didn’t expect you to want me to pick you up so early though?’

‘O-oh, um… Yeah...’ I murmur sheepishly; that’s the exact same remark that Mr. Arlert made as I tiptoed into the kitchen at eight in the morning – just about an hour ago, really – while everyone else was – and to the best of my knowledge, still _is_ – asleep. Anxiety and terror that he’d be angry with me made me stumble over my words, but in the end, I managed to ask him to call Levi to pick me up; completely not considering that he might want to sleep in late today and not want to come get me so early. That thought now makes me fidget again. ‘I, um… Are you angry? It’s… It’s too early, isn’t it…’

‘Eren. Shush. You know I don’t sleep in late anyway.’

‘Oh…’

‘Ay, Levi! Happy new year!’ The friendly older man’s voice booms behind me, startling me a little; I was the one to open the door, just as he encouraged when he saw my excitement upon hearing the doorbell. ‘Wanna come in for tea or something?’

‘Um. Hi. No, thanks, maybe another time. I’ll get Eren home.’ Something about the approaching man’s expression tells me he didn’t expect any other answer. Still, he doesn’t seem discouraged or offended at having his invitation rejected.

‘I see. Well then; some other time sounds good.’

‘Thank you for taking care of Eren.’ Something causes me to blush at these words. ‘I hope he’s been good?’ And that blush disappears immediately as anxiety creeps back up.

‘Of course.’ I positively deflate at the hearty laugh that Mr. Arlert gives. I feel like I’m going to get a whiplash from all the opposing emotions brought about through this little conversation. ‘He’s a pleasure to have around. I hope he had fun, too.’

Mr. Arlert looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. The sudden spotlight over my head makes me forget my words for a minute, but I recover quickly enough. ‘Of- of course! I had- I had a lovely time, Mr. Arlert; thank you so much for having me.’

My head bows on instinct, but snaps back up again as the man pats my shoulder lightly. ‘Well, you’re welcome here anytime, Eren. Armin will definitely keep in touch anyway.’ I smile at him and nod. ‘Alright, you boys take care on your way home.’

Turning back to Levi, I see him holding up the open clasp of the leash, his face featuring a slight grimace. I quickly turn my collar around so that the metal ring is on the front, before guiding Levi’s hand with the leash to it. Once he feels metal hit metal and the leash is secured, he speaks up again. ‘You take care too, old man. I’ll see you around.’ We finally take our leave and I give a small wave before the man shuts the front door.

We make our way to the bus stop in silence; I _want to_ start a conversation, but I’m apprehensive. What mood is he in, I wonder? Maybe he’s not in the mood for talking. I don’t want to bother him; I’ve bothered him enough by making him come here on his own, for the second time in two days, just because I’m meeting up with new people. I feel guilty, but it’s not like Levi was going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

‘So, Eren.’ I hear him break the silence once we sit on the bench with no one else at the stop. ‘How was last night? How did you find the other people? Were they nice to you?’

He sounds genuinely interested. Maybe he’s in a mood for a little chat after all. ‘Yeah, they were- they were great, actually. This one guy, um, what’s his name… Oh, Connie, yeah Connie – he commented on my collar; nothing bad, he just said it’s a pretty collar. That my master must really care for me to give me something so pretty.’ I laugh lightly at the memory. ‘But the way that girl with the broken leg, Sasha – the way she elbowed him; he almost fell to the floor, that poor guy!’

‘Ah, Connie…’ Levi wears a frown that seems to cast shadows all over his face. ‘He’s always been somewhat thick in the head. Speaks first, thinks later. Damn kid.’

‘Yeah, but. It’s alright. We laughed it off, and- and I was really surprised, because that was actually the only time any of them made a comment about me being a slave. That was… so strange, you know? They took me in as one of their own. That Reiner guy was awfully scary at first, but he turned out to be really friendly, maybe even more so than his tall friend. Bertholdt. Yeah, he didn’t talk to me much. But he didn’t seem to talk much in general.’ I shrug to myself. ‘And it was kind of like you said; even though I was really, really anxious at first… Somehow, it all turned out to be okay. Armin is so cool, he helped me settle in with those guys, introduced me and all. And then he showed us some video games, and apparently, I totally sucked, I- I never had anything like that at home. But they didn’t seem to mind. I don’t even know where the time went. Soon it was midnight, and- God, everything went really loud, everyone was loud, there was alcohol and everything… N-not too much! Just, uh, champagne? They said there isn’t much alcohol in that, s-so I… I had some, is- is that okay? With you?’

The wrinkle in his brow eases a little. ‘What a question. I’m glad you had a good time, brat. And I’m really proud of you, you know? You went out there and met up with such a group of people, you overcame your anxiety – that’s a big thing, you know?’

My smile at his praise is weak; just how pitiful is it to be proud of someone just because they didn’t freak the fuck out when they were placed in a small group of strangers? It makes me feel pathetic, but I try to not dwell on it too much; I know Levi didn’t mean it in a bad way, and that I am, in fact, making progress from the mess of a human I was, just a couple of months back. ‘Thank you, Levi. A-and it’s all thanks to you. You know… it was nice, but… I kept thinking that, um, you were there alone? I- I felt awful then, for going. Couldn’t stop thinking, that you were alone.’ My last words are mumbles; I probably sound really stupid. It’s not like he needs me to keep him company. But… he doesn’t hate it either, right?

‘Stop being silly. This isn’t the first New Year’s Eve that I’ve spent alone. I’m used to it.’

His words hit me like a hammer in the gut. They’re awful. Painful. Just how horrible must it be for someone to be used to being alone? Just because he’s used to it, doesn’t mean he enjoys things being this way. I remember thinking, in my first days at his house, that perhaps he’s lonely; I fear more and more that I was correct.

I remember New Year’s Eves back at home; we didn’t have top class champagne in fancy long glasses. We didn’t have a TV to watch some concerts or festivals, to count down the last seconds to midnight with. But we were always together as a family; sometimes neighbours came over – especially when their relatives were away and they were at home by themselves. That’s how things were back in Shiganshina; it was such a tiny village, but we all stuck together. As a family, as a community. No one was left alone, no one was left behind; this was the worst punishment and saddest torment, and we didn’t let it get to anyone. And now to hear that Levi is used to being alone? My heart throbs something awful at that simple statement, spoken as if it’s not a big deal.

‘Oh… But still. I guess I just- I really missed you, Levi.’ Again; the words are muttered out, and it is only then that I hear how idiotic they sound. They do, don’t they?

‘Oi. You were just overwhelmed, you know? By the new surroundings, by being away from me for that many hours for the first time in well, ever, since you came to live with me. That’s all.’

I frown at his face, his voice. Being around him for so long, I learned to distinguish between actual monotones and expressionless faces, and times when he actually just appears to be detached in order to cover up something. He’s definitely hiding some emotion this time. But why is he dismissing everything; belittling all my attempts at making him realise that, while I enjoyed that get-together, I much rather would have preferred to spend that night with Levi? I wouldn’t have minded if we wouldn’t celebrate it; if we wouldn’t do anything out of the ordinary, if he’d just teach me more physics. It _was_ somewhat of a special occasion, and I wanted to spend it with him; I guess I just really want to be with him and…

…And when did I even become like that?

 

 

Life falls back into the usual routine for good two weeks; I clean, I cook, I read, I even talk with Armin on the phone once, I study alone from Armin’s books or with Levi or go on walks or grocery shopping with him, while he spends a lot of time once more on writing for the magazine. Overall, things are quite monotonous, but it is time that I very much appreciate; it helps me come to a stage where my stuttering can be kept to a minimum without the need to talk as slow as I tried before. Levi hasn’t had any depressive episodes either, so maybe we really are growing on each other, becoming more comfortable with one another’s presence. This is the only thing I wish for now; for him to enjoy my company as much as I enjoy his. And that enjoyment on my side, the fondness of the stoic man; they grow with each passing day. One of these days when he lets me use the computer for a short while, I find myself researching personal stories of people who went blind in their adult life, and how they managed to cope with it, how they continued on with their everyday lives, their jobs, their careers. What caught my eye was an account of a European computer scientist and programmer who lost his vision in his early thirties. I’m not sure what I expected, but finding out that the man actively lectures in a prestigious university was not it. The shock grew as I read up on what a programmer does – and how a single misplaced parenthesis can change half of the computer application, for example; or worse, completely mess it up. I’ve read in wonder how the man makes use of similar tools as Levi does, mainly the one that reads back the writing – or in this case, the programming code – so that he can correct his students’ assignments by listening to them. I could almost feel my eyes ache as I didn’t blink once, drinking in the wonderful stories and information. If this man can… then surely, Levi must be capable of that as well? Why isn’t he in the university? He _must_ be aware of the possibility to still teach, right? Why isn’t he doing it? Why did he give up? As much as I want to bring it up, it never feels like it’s a good time for it. And so, the monotony continues.

The dullness is shaken up a good bit on a particular afternoon in late January, when Levi suddenly suggests that I read through one of his articles before he sends it to Armin. I stare at him from my seat beside him, in front of his desk; we were just meant to be studying as usual. But he persists, wanting me to check at least the spelling, sentence structure, punctuation, and the general look, before he’ll give it to Armin to read over the actual content to confirm scientific accuracy. Still dumbfounded, I lean in closer and scan my eyes over the text on the screen, feeling myself starting to sweat, being torn between not wanting to point out that Levi made a mistake, and not wanting to seem like I don’t care and am doing a lousy job. Oh God, is he testing me? No, he wouldn’t do it. This is Levi we’re talking about. But still, I’m painfully nervous when pointing out an instance where I think there’s an extra unnecessary comma, and where the word ‘Bremsstrahlung’ isn’t capitalised. To my continued shock, he seems pleased and decides that, if I want, we should make this proofreading a routine and use it as another method for me to learn. I agree without even blinking; to say that I feel privileged would be an understatement; I feel like I’m being let even further into something very profound, like I’m being promoted to someone more significant in Levi’s life – and I couldn’t be happier.

‘Eren, another thing; I want you to go to a doctor.’

This couldn’t have been a more confusing, anxiety-inducing, and out-of-the-blue statement. Wait, what? To a doctor? Doctors are awful; they prod at your body like you’re cattle with no consideration for your dignity. I would know; my father was – or is, wherever he is – a doctor. He was a damn good one, but whenever I saw him tend to a patient at home, peeking around the kitchen counter, he always looked as if he was dealing with a new challenge, a test subject; not an actual human being. I can recall scraps of memories from my early childhood when he’d attempt to force disgusting medicines down my throat – almost literally – and get frustrated when I’d refuse and start crying. Mom would always step in and gently talk her five-year-old into taking the nasty syrup, using her magic tricks; juice, bribery with a cookie, airplane games, but most importantly – patience. Something that my father never had; at least not for his family. And… And sure, why do I need to go to see a doctor anyway? What’s wrong with me? Am I even allowed to go to a doctor? The last time I was in a medical setting, that didn’t go very well, and that’s putting it lightly. I shudder at the memory of that nasty nurse basically throwing us out.

‘But, why?’ It’s strange how high my voice suddenly became.

Levi sighs, tapping his fingers lightly across the keyboard without actually pressing any buttons. ‘I need to get my prescription renewed. You know, for the pills. And it’s a whole clinic there, so I think we should use this opportunity to check whether you’re healthy. I should have done this much earlier, to be honest, but I figured you probably didn’t want strangers – even doctors – touching you. Would you be more willing to go now?’

‘Uh…’ I absolutely don’t know what to say, or what to even think.

‘I was thinking you should just go to a GP first, one that I go to, and we’ll talk through the tests that you’d need to through with him. He’s a good guy. He’ll then be able to send you to other specialists as he’d see fit. On top of that, I’d make you an appointment with a dentist.’ I whine at the last word. ‘Don’t be scared. It’s all in the same clinic, we won’t even have to go anywhere else. And I’ll be with you there all the time, so if something is wrong, you’ll let me know, and we leave. What do you say?’

And really, what _can_ I say? He seems so determined to take care of me; it’s the same as when he was so hell-bent on making me eat regularly. It’s a strange feeling when I think to myself that earlier on, a few weeks ago, I would be convinced that it is simply due to his desire to have a healthy and strong slave, capable of serving him without a complaint. A darker corner of my mind peeps up, whispering that this _is_ the reason, or at least, it’s one of them – but I make an effort to quieten it down, to step forward, and to trust Levi; to trust that he really just wants me to be healthy, like he would want a friend to be healthy. Didn’t he tell me once that I’m his friend?

‘Okay, I’ll go.’

 

 

‘What do you mean?! I should have been informed of this!’

The day of the doctor visit approaches all too soon; things seem to be going peacefully and I take a seat in the waiting area by the reception – the room is white and spacious, with a few lines of white chairs, a number of doors with nameplates hanging beside each on the wall, a shelf with magazines, and one side of the room completely windowed, giving a view of the road below. I wait on the edge of one white chair patiently, willing myself to relax; but that is until I hear Levi’s distressed voice, making my eyes shift to him immediately – and to the less than pleased freckled receptionist that takes his prescription booklet. I don’t give rising to my feet much thought, even though Levi specifically asked me to wait; I need to know what’s going on, and why the man seems so upset all of a sudden.

‘It was urgent.’ The tanned woman with a dark ponytail sighs, her bored words becoming clearer as I approach the desk to stand beside Levi. ‘Illness, family issues, I don’t know, but Dr Ral is taking all of Dr Jinn’s patients for the rest of the week.’

‘Levi, what’s wrong?’

He half turns to me, his brow furrowed, his voice unnerved. ‘We’re seeing a different doctor than originally planned.’

‘Miiister Ackerman.’ The receptionist drawls her words out and, God, she’s getting on my nerves somehow. ‘It’s really not that big of a deal. She’s a good doctor, so now, do take a seat and wait for when you are called.’ The woman turns her attention to me for a moment, making a face of some sort of displeasure or disgust, her thin lips twisting, her gaze fixed on the collar on my neck. I don’t shy away from her stare. Instead, I meet her eyes with a glare of confused anger, as to why in the hell does she have to be so obnoxiously disinterested and disrespectful to Levi with her words and the way she says them. I want to burn holes in her face with my eyes until she apologizes, but she only shrugs and ostentatiously flips out her phone, leaning back in her soft leather chair behind the glass.

Beside me, Levi sighs and asks to be led to the chairs. Hurriedly, I take his elbow gently and lead us to the chairs a bit further away from the nasty woman that someone made the mistake of giving too much power to, in this place.

Levi sits down, running a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry, Eren. This is shit.’

I frown. ‘But… Why are you apologizing? I don’t understand.’

‘Ah, it’s just that- I don’t know this doctor, I can’t vouch for her. I could vouch for Erd; I know he’s a good doctor and a good guy, too. Don’t know what this Ral woman is like. And…’ He pauses for a moment, as if wanting to say something, but not knowing how to put it in suitable words. ‘Are you okay with a woman examining you?’

Oh. That. I give myself a few seconds to think it over before answering. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. I guess. Maybe that’s even better, you know. Will remind me less of… _there_. You know. There were no women there.’ I huff something close to a laugh to lighten the mood.

‘Alright.’ The single word, not sounding terribly convinced, is all he says for a while, until he picks up again. ‘Here. Maybe we could have some sort of code or something. Like, I’ll hold your hand in there, and when I’ll give you a squeeze, you’ll answer me, depending on how you feel and how the doctor is. Say, one squeeze would mean that everything is okay. Two would mean that something is wrong; you’re afraid, you don’t want to do something she tells you to, or she’s being intimidating in a way that I can’t pick up on. Three means you need to leave immediately. How’s that?’

‘Hm…’

‘Of course you can tell me simply, verbally, if you want to. But the hand squeeze, I think, could be of use if you feel she’s scary and you don’t want to show her you’re scared, or I dunno; whatever other reason as to why you might not want to speak then.’

The agitation of being here only reminds me of its existence as it seeps out of my bones while I listen to Levi’s steady voice talk. The feeling of being protected and cared for, so evident through his impromptu silent communication system wraps around me like a warm, fluffy blanket. Safe, as always. Always safe with him. ‘Okay. That’s, that sounds good. Thank you, Levi.’

‘Mmn.’ He does his usual noncommittal hum, never seeming to know what to say when he’s being thanked.

Something I briefly thought of earlier on pops up in my mind again. ‘Oh, and- and should I call you ‘sir’ or ‘master’ in front of her; when we’re in the doctor’s office, I mean?’

His voice is his usual shade of emptiness but it feels somewhat light, as he sighs gently and turns his head slightly away from me, more towards the windows. The sun makes his pale face almost glow. ‘That’s not my name, brat.’

Somehow, deep inside, I’ve expected this. Comforting gratitude warms up my voice and face with a soft smile. ‘Understood, Levi.’

After that, silence falls between us and with time, it becomes more comfortable and less anxious. Minutes pass. One thing I have to admit about myself; I’m not naturally patient. I’m not naturally good at sitting still. Back home, in my _Shiganshina home_ , back when I was a kid, I know that I was really a handful. Being a constantly buzzing ball of energy, the only reason I ate my meals sitting down or didn’t burn the house accidentally was the fact that my mother had enough of that same spark I had; enough of it to keep me at least somewhat in check. But then obviously, her death, father’s disappearance, the orphanage, separation from Mikasa, and finally – the brothel and _Keith,_ most significantly; dulled my fire, took away my curiosity, my enthusiasm about life; made me weak. Every day, with every anxiety and every fear, with every time I overthink and with every time I stutter; the painful realisation that I’m not the person I was before saddens me further. But these days I’m getting stronger; ever since I walked into that apartment. With every kind word, every encouragement, every sign of respect. With every warm meal, every restful night, with every warm piece of clothing. I get stronger, and I’m regaining myself – regaining the fire I have had taken from me so forcefully.

And now, for the first time, I think that it’s not always such a good thing. With the agonisingly slow movements of the clock arm above the reception desk, I’m finding it difficult to stay still, and I’m getting fidgety. I surprise myself when I fight the urge to groan or sigh impatiently or make a comment about how behind time we are. However, what’s more surprising, is my conclusion that maybe, just maybe, if I did any of that, then there’s a chance Levi wouldn’t get upset even if we’re here for my sake; even if he probably doesn’t feel like waiting either. And if that’s not liberating, I don’t know what is. Of course, I can’t be sure, but this is Levi; for _whatever_ _reason_ , he insists on treating me as an equal, so maybe he wouldn’t mind an expression of impatience; it’s only human, after all – and didn’t he tell me I was human?

But oh, then I remember the reason. I’m his _friend._

Just as I reach that end of this train of thought, he puts his head on my shoulder without a word. My chest swells and I hold in a gasp to not shatter this gentle moment as I rest my head on top of his, feeling eternally blissful.

However, I only get to enjoy his warmth so close for a short moment, before a sweet female voice rings out clear in the waiting area. ‘Mr Ackerman?’

I practically jump out of my seat while Levi rises to his seat more calmly. My eyes dart anxiously around the room until I find a short, petite woman with strawberry blond hair down to her shoulders, a white doctor’s coat, and an inviting expectant smile turned towards us as she sees us rise up. Taking Levi’s elbow gently once more and leading us towards the woman, I’m simultaneously relaxing just a little bit when I see her warm smile which doesn’t falter even as she sees my collar and leash, and yet  my instincts make me drop my eyes slightly in submission at the figure in authority in front of me.

‘Good morning, Mr Ackerman, and…?’ She shakes Levi’s hand happily in the doorway of her office before extending her hand towards me.

Feeling a bit like a deer in headlights, momentarily I’m at a loss at what to do, but the woman’s hand remains extended and her soft expression in place. I timidly place my hand in hers, pleasantly surprised at her gentle yet quite firm grip as she gives my hand a shake. ‘Eren.’

‘Eren. Nice to meet yous both. My name is Dr Petra Ral; I’m taking over Dr Jinn’s patients today.’ She withdraws her hand from mine and steps back to let us into the room. ‘Please, come in.’ We walk inside and I lead Levi to one of the two patient chairs, helping him to sit in the one closer to the doctor’s desk, then take a seat beside him. My eyes scan the room quickly; the desk and the chairs are by the left wall, while there’s a bed with typical green hospital sheets and a curtain of similar colour drawn halfway around it. In the far right corner there’s a tall shelf with books and boxes. There’s a window across the door. I surprise myself at my conclusion that this small room doesn’t seem very threatening and I find myself rather at ease in here. As much at ease as I can be in a new place, I suppose. Levi’s hand over mine as we hold them between our thighs as we sit soothes me further. The woman keeps talking as she closes the door and sits back at her desk. ‘Apologies for the delay, and for the whole commotion in general. It was a very urgent and sudden matter, and Dr Jinn could not give an earlier notice about his absence. We’re all really a bit all over the place with this today, I hope you can understand.’ She sounds genuinely apologetic.

‘Of course, that kind of thing can happen.’ Levi’s reply is calm without even a trace of impatience.

‘Thank you for your understanding.’ Dr Ral folds her hands on top of her desk. ‘Now, what can I do for you?’

‘We’re here for Eren today.’

I feel my face going up in flames instantly at the sudden attention being drawn towards me now. My hand is squeezed gently, barely noticeably. I squeeze back once.

‘Okay, I see. Now, I hope you won’t take offence about what I’ll say next, but…’ She looks down for a split second. Oh God, here it comes. Whatever _it_ is, I know it’s not good. ‘I’m obliged to bring your attention to the fact that this clinic… is for full citizens. We can of course treat anyone here, but as you might be aware, no medical card or health insurance will cover this, and you’ll have to pay for this visit and any additional exams or checks in full. Now, Mr Ackerman, if you’d like, I could point you to some specialist clinics that treat those who do not hold a full citizenship.’

Well, she definitely did beat around the bush and wrapped my pathetic state in fancy words.

‘And would you _actually_ recommend those places?’ I could be wrong, but I feel like there’s the slightest flavour of ridicule in his tone; as if he knows the answer and will hold to it, no matter what the doctor will say.

The small woman sighs deeply, seeming troubled. ‘As a healthcare worker, it’s my job to recommend it to you. As a doctor who took the oath to take care of people, I’d ask you, if you care even slightly about this young man here, to stay away from those unethical and immoral places of humiliation as much as possible.’ Her words and serious tone make me shiver as cold dread fills my chest and my eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Just what goes on in those places that a medical practitioner would say something like this?

‘As I expected.’ Levi doesn’t seem surprised at all. His voice is dark.

‘Strictly off the record, of course.’ The woman adds.

‘Naturally. And let’s not speak of that _option_ ever again, Dr Ral.’

‘Of course.’ A moment of silence falls in the room. Levi squeezes my hand once more, and again, I reply with a single squeeze, wishing we could have developed a pattern for _thank you._ He’s doing so much for me again; paying for my medical care so much, even though he doesn’t have to. I fight the urge to hug him tight, which becomes even harder when he runs his thumb over the top of my hand. I watch the doctor’s smile return. ‘So, how can I help Eren today?’

Levi sits up straighter before starting to speak. ‘Eren started living with me in autumn, around September. He was in rather poor health back then, and even though he’s better now, I believe, I still wanted to do a general check up on him; general things like blood glucose, pressure, his BMI, maybe an allergy test? I’ve already made a dentist appointment for later on today, too. Oh, and I’d like him to have a comprehensive STI check done.’ I squirm a little in utter embarrassment and frankly, a bit of fear at the number of tests he wants to have done on me.

Dr Ral’s expression remains neutral and non-judgmental as she scribbles something on a little notepad. ‘Hm. Have you not considered bringing him in earlier if he’s been with you for a few months already?’

I can almost feel Levi bristle at the question. ‘Of course I did. However, it just- it wasn’t possible, earlier.’ I’m relieved to no end that he doesn’t elaborate on my pathetic fears and anxieties.

‘I see. Is there anything in particular that you find worrying about Eren’s current health?’

‘No- I mean… He used to be terribly thin. We’re working on putting a bit more meat on his bones, but I’m not certain whether he’s at the correct weight for his height yet.’

‘Mhm, mhm.’ She nods to herself as she keeps writing, this time on a green square piece of paper. ‘Eren, what about you? Does anything bother you, does anything hurt? Do you feel weak or unable to do something? Anything wrong at all?’

‘No, doctor. I’m- I feel good.’ I want to tell her how well Levi’s taking care of me, but I don’t trust my voice too much right now.

‘Okay. And tell me, how old are you, Eren?’

‘Seventeen.’

‘Seventeen. Okay. Is there a history of illnesses like diabetes or heart disease or the likes in your family?’

The fingers of my free hand twitch, but Levi’s thumb caressing the top of my other hand once more helps me find my voice again. ‘N-no. I-I mean. My mother died of sickness but- no on knew what it was.’ I don’t go into detail about my dad being a doctor, and how ridiculous it was that he didn’t know; or the possibility of him just not telling Mikasa and I, since he was too busy drinking himself stupid on a regular basis during mom’s illness.

‘I see. I’m sorry. Eren, could you take off your shoes and coat now and pop up on the scales here and we’ll check your weight?’

I nod, untying my shoes and taking off my jacket before leaving it on my chair before standing on the electronic scales she’s standing by. The red digits flicker before they settle on a steady 52.5kg. I fidget, awaiting the doctor’s verdict, not knowing whether this is good or bad. She doesn’t clue me in, however, only asks me to stand with my back against another contraption by the wall to check my height. As she walks over to her desk and types something on her computer, she asks me to take a seat on the bed. I tense up immediately but obey. The bed is high up and my feet dangle in the air as the woman speaks again.

‘Eren’s current BMI is 18.17, which is very slightly underweight; the guideline normal weight starts at 18.5, so it wouldn’t hurt for him to gain another kilogram or two. Mr Ackerman, you said he was very thin a few months back; it’s good that he’s gaining weight gradually. So you’re all good, all on the right track here.’

Levi exhales, seemingly relieved. ‘I’m glad.’

The doctor smiles and walks up to the bed beside me. ‘Now, Eren, could you lie back on the bed and lift up your shirt? I just need to-’

The request is so unexpected that I can’t catch the whimper that escapes my throat, interrupting her words. The doctor’s smile disappears immediately and I bow my head, feeling stupid.

‘Eren, you don’t have to.’ My eyes dart to Levi as he speaks. He seems to be sitting more on the edge of his seat now with one of his hands clenched and his brows furrowed.

‘It’s alright, Eren. I just need to check your breathing, can I do that, dear?’

Oh.

‘O-okay. That’s- that’s okay. S-sorry.’ I mumble lifting my legs up and settling back on the very stiff bed.

‘It’s okay, don’t worry.’ She leans over me and I can’t stop my toes from curling and my fingers from digging into the mint-green sheets. She starts pressing on my lower abdomen, as if looking for something. ‘Does any of that hurt? When I press like that?’

‘N-no.’

‘Good, good. Can you lift your shirt just a little, then?’ She asks softly, putting the stethoscope in her ears.

Very reluctantly and with trembling fingers, I do as she asks. It feels strange, having someone observe me so closely after living for months with someone who’s blind. I frown when she reaches for my chest empty-handed, without the round end of the stethoscope. Holding my breath in fear, I feel her touching a particular spot on my skin, tentatively, her touch barely there. That’s when I realise she’s tracing over one of the more prominent of my scars, a thick line over my ribs on the right. Looking up to her face, I’m taken aback by the sheer intensity of the focused concern on her face. She looks up at my face, too, and her lips move. I realise a bit too late that she’s silently mouthing words at me. I frown, prompting her to repeat her words, all the while already feeling guilty that I’m engaging in something that’s so obviously behind Levi’s back. When she repeats her words, her lips move slowly and exaggerate every vowel.

_Does he hurt you?_

My eyes widen in an offended kind of shock at her question while my brows pull together. I mouth my reply back at her with determination, careful to not actually make a sound.

_No! No! He never! He never did!_

_Okay, okay, okay…_ She holds up a calming hand and I lie back on the bed, only then realising I started to lift myself up as if trying to get in her face. She sits back, smiling at me again and begins checking my breathing, the cold tip of the device gently tapping my chest. ‘Breathe deeply, now.’

When she seems happy enough, she asks me to sit up and turn around so that she can listen to my breathing through my back too. After that comes the pressure and pulse check, which gives me a little anxiety with how tight the inflatable sleeve grips my arm, but I don’t let it show; the pressure is gone soon enough anyway. Afterwards, she brings a pen-shaped device and tells me she’s going to prick my finger to draw a little blood to check my glucose. I let her do her thing, turning my head away, but I’m surprised to find that I don’t actually feel the needle, just as she promised. Finally, I’m sent back to my seat. Levi’s hand doesn’t waste time in finding mine once again and giving it a single firm squeeze. As before, I reply with just one. I’m okay. A little weirded out by all the prodding and poking, but I’m okay.

Dr Ral keeps scribbling something on even more pages. She doesn’t look up as she starts to speak. ‘From what I can see, generally, all seems good. Your breathing is good and clear, your pressure and pulse are good, your glucose is in the normal range. I noticed your nails are a bit weak though, and so is your hair; you left a strand or two when getting up from the bed.’ I wince, wanting to apologize, but she keeps speaking. ‘So I’m going to prescribe you biotin with zinc, they’re just supplements. You can take that for a while, see if it helps somewhat. Then-’

‘Sorry, Dr Ral?’ Levi interrupts.

‘Yes, Mr Ackerman?’

‘Could you…’ If I didn’t know better, I would have said that he looks embarrassed. ‘Could you prescribe one of these for me, too? I think I uh, the antidepressants I take make me lose my hair a bit.’

‘Of course. What kind of antidepressants do you take?’

‘SSRIs, fluoxetine-based.’

‘No problem.’

I feel utterly lost in their conversation so I just settle for watching idly as the woman continues to write in silence, alternating with typing on the computer. After a while, she speaks again. ‘Alright. Here’s your prescription, Mr Ackerman.’ She places the paper in Levi’s waiting hand. ‘There’s also the receipt for today’s visit that you need to bring over to the reception, and you’ll pay there. Next are a few referrals – Eren, I’ll give those to you. There’s one for a urine and blood tests for the STIs, and that other one is for the allergy test. You’ll have to go to the room just next door, that’s the nurses’ room, and they’ll do them there.’ I look at the two square pieces of paper in my hand, one green and one yellow, understanding only a few words written on them.

‘Thank you very much, Dr Ral.’ Levi speaks as he rises and I quickly follow suit, saying my thanks.

‘No problem, it was lovely meeting you. You boys take care of yourselves.’

‘We will.’ Levi replies. ‘Thank you.’

‘Bye!’ The woman gives us a last cheerful wave as we take our leave. 

We head straight to the nurses’ room as instructed where a light blonde nurse with glasses greets us – her nametag says _Senior Nurse Rico_ , with a surname that I don’t have enough time to catch – and immediately gives me a jar to pee in, instructing me to the bathroom outside the room. I’m surprised she doesn’t make a deal out of the fact that I’m a slave; she’s definitely not as friendly as Dr Ral, but she’s not unpleasant either. In fact, she doesn’t really say much at all. She seems like she’s just content enough to follow orders; she gets a referral, she carries out the exam without questioning why.

Just as I expected, urinating into the jar is an awful and embarrassing ordeal, and I’m ashamed, feeling like every shadow in the little toilet stall judges me. I cling the little container tight to my body as I walk back to the nurses’ room despite the empty chairs in the waiting area and the lack of attention to the surroundings from the receptionist. My face goes up in flames yet again as I hand the jar back to the nurse. She says nothing, only puts it away after putting a sticker on it. I see Levi sitting in one of the two chairs by the wall, concentrated look on his face, as if he’s determined to take every slightest sound in.

The nurse directs me to a comfy chair with an armrest, then proceeds to sit beside me and pull a strap tight around my upper arm. She doesn’t speak as she prepares a large needle and a syringe – I turn my head away, not wanting to look at the next parts. Anxiously, I await the moment the sharp tool breaches my skin. After a bit of patting around my veins and rubbing the skin with alcohol, the nurse finally forces the needle into my arm, and it takes all of my willpower not to whimper, but I keep looking away, not wanting to see the copious amounts of blood drawn from my body. To distract myself, I focus on the stupid feeling of being pathetic at my own thought and wish that Levi would hold my hand through this. I don’t want to embarrass neither myself nor him, so I stay silent throughout the painful ordeal, only stealing sporadic glances at Levi whose expression is so perfectly neutral, as usual.

When the nurse concludes that she’s got enough blood drawn, she withdraws the needle and puts away the equipment, but instructs me to stay sitting. She makes a brief note that the results of the STI tests will be sent in the post to Levi’s address in up to seven days. He speaks up then, asking for his renewed prescription which he left at the reception to be sent with the results. Nurse Rico scribbles something down and murmurs that it can be arranged.

In a few short sentences she explains the allergy test to me; after cleaning my other arm thoroughly with some more rubbing alcohol, she’ll prick my skin a number of times at different spots with different needles, each contaminated with a particular allergen; I’ll then have to wait fifteen minutes before we’ll know the results.

This doesn’t sound like anything I’ve had done before, so I watch her write some letters on my forearm and piercing my skin a number of times just slightly; I’m happy to see no blood come out. Those minutes of waiting drag on forever, and if _I’m_ bored, then I don’t want to dwell on how much the time stretches for Levi, who can only sit there and listen. At some stage though, my arm starts to itch in a few places, and I instinctively rise my other to start scratching. The nurse tells me sternly to not even think about it; apparently five more minutes are required for the test to be complete. I sulk a bit, the itch starting to be infuriating, but I decide to try my best to not be an embarrassment to Levi.

The test is finally over, and it turns out that I’m allergic to some types of sea food; mussels, lobster, clam, and crab. I feel a little dejected that I’m broken in yet another way; yet something else is up with me, another restriction placed around my shoulders. I guess the only consolation is the fact that I’ve never even eaten these foods anyway, so it’s not like I’ll even know if I’m missing anything good anyway. It’s approaching noon when Levi and I make our way back out to the waiting area to start our half-an-hour-long wait for my dentist appointment. As we take our seats, I quickly find Levi’s hand with my own, and this time it’s me who gives a single squeeze, even though we can speak freely. Still, I’m pleased to get a single squeeze back, before the man manoeuvres our hands so that our fingers are intertwined. I look down at our joined hands, and decide that it’s a lovely sight.

As nice as it is to hold Levi’s hand, my impatience kicks in. It starts as gentle leg jiggling, before Levi feels the little shakes, frowns, and gives me an annoyed _‘really, brat?’_ – without letting go of my hand though – so I quickly regain control over my muscles and stop. But I’m still itching to do something; ideally to go home – I’ve been too long in this place.

‘Hey, Levi… Can I go look at the magazines there? They’re just by the wall, near Dr Ral’s room?’

He seems hesitant for a moment. ‘Yeah, but… How about- What if you’d tell me that you want to go, instead of asking? I mean, that’s not something you have to ask about. So, what if you’d just say; _‘Levi, be back in a sec, I’m gonna have a look at the magazines’_?’

I don’t deserve him.

‘Alright. Well, then, I’ll- I’ll be back in a second, yeah?’ I feel stupid, still having phrased it as a question.

‘Yeah.’ He still smiles though, withdrawing his hand from mine.

Casually, with no real hurry to my step, I stroll over to the tall white bookshelf with different medical magazines stacked on the display. I skim through the different titles; _Weight Loss the Healthy Way_ , _Befriending Your Diabetes_ , _Making the Most of Old Age_ , and lots of other ones that don’t really seem of any use to me. Then, one grey-blue cover on the second bottom shelf catches my eye; _Caring for Your Mental Health; Top 20 Tips_. Well, that might be interesting; I’m pretty sure my mental health is shit, considering the fact that I can barely interact with a small group of people and not have a panic attack, and just a few weeks ago I was too scared to even talk in my new home and didn’t think of myself as a human – which Levi repeatedly told me it’s an awful thing to think. It seems as if he knows better. Without much further though, I pick up the leaflet and flip through the pages idly. Annoying photos of people laughing at their salads, or others, of laughing in a group of people, appear on different pages and I don’t even bother to read the short paragraphs. On one particular page, I spot an image of a pillow, and that makes me stop; perhaps there’d be something about overcoming nightmares, which still haunt me every now and again in my sleep. I read the title, and my face immediately goes back up in flames: _12\. Masturbation as a Healthy Way to Get to Know Yourself_. I feel idiotic, like a twelve-year-old who blushes and giggles at the word _penis_. Nevertheless, I’d like an explanation as to why that sort of content is in that kind of magazine. That’s the only reason why I keep reading, obviously.

_You might be wondering as to why something of this nature appears in a guide about mental health. Don’t fret; do give us a chance to serve you a very logical explanation. After reading the previous tips, you should now understand that we, as humans, are multidimensional and infinitely complex by nature; we are re spiritual, emotional, social, physical, but also sexual beings. We all know and accept that in order to achieve at least some level of happiness and to be mentally healthy, we need to feel accepted by our environment, to have a trustworthy circle of friends and family, to be in as good of a physical health as we can be. And yet, sadly, the last aspect is often neglected, the sexual side of our humanity overlooked, belittled._

I frown, unsure as to whether I want to keep reading. I’ve seen what the sexual side of humanity is capable of, what sexual ‘needs’ make people do. I’ve seen it, I’ve experienced it and felt it every day for so long, and I didn’t like it one bit. Still, I keep reading, out of annoyed and challenging curiosity; just how idealistic and stuck-up are those people who wrote that article, never having lived through what I did?

_The taboo surrounding the issue diminishes with each decade, but it’s still there. It is this taboo that makes young people feel bad and guilty about exploring their bodies and about seeking out information about safe intercourse. In this discussion however, let’s focus on the first case; the exploring one’s body part. Let’s talk about masturbation._

_Every source, every statistics website will give you different results about the percentage of men and women who masturbate; this can range from the now-common joke that 98% of adult men masturbate and the other 2% are too embarrassed to admit it, down to bit bleaker results, such as just about a half of the surveyed population admitting to regularly getting intimate with their own bodies. There are as many different results as there are tests; the exact numbers simply can’t be measured. Yet, what we do know, are the facts, such as the health benefits that masturbation can bring; this is why we include this page in this guide._

Alright, you snobs. Bring it on, you bunch of weirdos.

_Despite the demonic things you might have heard about self-pleasure from the older generations, there is no scientific evidence of it ever being a cause of infertility, blindness, or world wars. On the contrary; masturbation has a lot of immediate, positive results – it greatly helps to reduce stress, can act as a natural painkiller (especially for women who experience period pains), and researchers are working hard all day (and night!) to provide more solid evidence to show that masturbation can reduce the risk of infertility or prevent some of genital infections, or can help to fight insomnia._

I squint in confusion. That’s not really what I was expecting.

_Apart from these immediate effects, masturbation is a great way to get in touch (figuratively and literally) with your own body, to get to know it better, to better accept its flaws, and to better accept yourself. It might not be the definite medicine for tackling severe clinical depression, but more and more therapists encourage these unorthodox-to-some methods to help patients with anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorders, body image problems or eating disorders; anything that makes people feel that they’re worth less than they really are._

I frown at the article suddenly gaining some relatable elements.

 _If you want to try it, we won’t tell you_ how _to masturbate; that’s something everyone figures out on their own. But it’s always a good idea to be in a private place where you won’t be interrupted. Do you like candles? Light candles. Do you like incense? Light incense. Do you feel like having some gentle music playing in the background? Put some on. It’s important to not rush it; it’s your own time with yourself, so give your own body time that it deserves; a chance to unwind, relax, and get in the sensual mood. Again, take it slow – don’t rush head first to an orgasm, with this being the only goal. As odd as it might seem, pleasurable masturbation sessions can happen even without climaxing. It’s all about just feeling your own body, touching it in ways that feel good. You don’t_

A noise behind me. Panicked that someone might catch me reading such thigs, I almost rip the sheet when flipping the page. Cautiously, trying to be as discreet as possible, I peek over my shoulder and sigh in relief at the sight of an elderly woman arriving at the reception. The two individuals who’ve been sitting in the waiting area are still in the same spots.

Still, there’s an unpleasant shiver deep in my bones. I could blame the scare I just got, but I know it’s not just that, not really. That article was an odd read. All these words; pleasure, masturbation, touching, climaxing, orgasm…These are all _bad_ words. They mean the worst thigs, bring the worst memories, those most painful things having happened still so recently. Anything related to sex sounds scary, sounds like abuse and humiliation and pain. And yet, here they try to almost force it down my throat, that something like _this_ can be so pleasant, so beneficial, and hell, even healthy. I don’t really know whose crazier here, to be honest. And yet, I can’t help but wonder; can this really be good? Hell, can consensual sex be good, sometimes? It seems like such a wild concept. Too wild. I decide I don’t want to pick up the article and finish it. Putting away the article, I go to sit back beside Levi.

‘Anything interesting to read?’

My face burns with a new flame. _Careful, Eren; you’re a terrible liar. Watch out what you say; don’t lie – don’t lie to_ him _, goddammit – just avoid the embarrassing truth_. ‘Uh, well, just- just a lot of those medical magazines, didn’t find anything overly interesting, really…’

He gives me a hum in response.

Our hands find each other on their own accord, as if that’s the way we’ve been sitting our whole lives. I can’t say I mind it though. What I do mind, are the intrusive thoughts that swarm in my head, no matter how much I want them to change direction. But I can’t get them out. I look down at our joined hands; my left hand in Levi’s right. No matter how much I curse at myself, the question still pushes itself to the front of my mind until I consciously acknowledge it; does Levi do it too? Does Levi… touch himself? On one hand, I wish he does; then it would mean that this is normal, that it’s not bad, that it’s okay to try it. On the other, I don’t even want to think that he’d ever do it, because the next thoughts that follow are far from pleasant. They force themselves into my mind, showing me Levi pleasuring himself. Levi, with an aggressive expression on his face like those men, forcing me to stay between his legs and on my knees, his free hand painfully digging into my jaw to keep it open. The person that I trust, climaxing with a disgusting, guttural growl and forcing me to drink all he has to give me.

I pull my hand away too quickly, but follow it up with a quick excuse. ‘Just an itch.’ Making a point to scratch my other arm, I realise I don’t want to hold his hand again just yet. ‘Be right back. Bathroom.’ I do my best not to run.

Sitting on the closed toilet lid, I scratch at my arms viciously in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the disgusting, disturbing phantom feeling. He’d never do that. Levi would never treat me this way. He’s always so cautious to not hurt me, to make sure that I’m okay, and that I feel valued and on the same level as him. He’d never humiliate me like that.

Would he?

 

 

After I manage to calm myself enough to go back to the waiting area and not seem suspicious to Levi, it’s not much longer before we get called in to the dentist’s office. The man doesn’t wait in the doorway to greet us like Dr Ral. The man with a strange puffy undercut walks back to his desk after calling us and when we take a seat inside, he finally decides to turn in his chair to face us; Dr Oluo Bozado looks utterly bored and disinterested with the world.

‘Mr Ackerman, yeah? You made a general check-up appointment, yes?’

‘Correct. Not for me though; for Eren, here.’

I see the man frown, his eyes becoming even smaller slits, and he doesn’t seem neither friendly nor trustworthy. A few poorly-oiled cogs seem to be turning in his head. ‘You’ll be paying the full cost, are you aware?’

‘Of course I’m aware.’

‘Good. Well, kid. Lie back there.’

I look to where he points. The chair, peeking from around a curtain and stretched out almost like a bed, has that greenish tinge yet again. In here, this colour looks sickly and scary. ‘Eren.’ Levi leans in to me and murmurs quietly as he hears the dentist put on the latex gloves with an obnoxious snap somewhere in the further corner of the room. ‘I can’t stand with you there. But if something is wrong, just shout, okay?’

The words scare me, but they’re not a surprise; I figured I’ll have to go alone. Like any normal mature human being. Which I am. I’m human. ‘Okay…’

‘You’ll be okay. We’ll go home soon.’ He whispers.

‘I do have a day full of patients.’

I cringe at the doctor. On the other hand, he’s right, isn’t he? I’m just a collared slave, I’m taking up time. But no, that’s wrong. Levi says otherwise. Levi says I’m more than that, I’m not worthless. He’s here, investing so much time and money in me. _I’m entitled to healthcare, because Levi says so_ – with this thought in mind, I lie back on the chair behind the curtain, where I can’t see the man anymore.

The dentist isn’t gentle when he pokes at my teeth with some pointed metal tool, but neither does he seem overly intent on hurting me. Maybe he’s like nurse Rico; maybe he just doesn’t care, and maybe he’s just a little bit annoyed that he, an almighty educated and experienced dentist, has to waste his precious time on someone that wears a collar. When he announces in an unimpressed voice that I have a cavity that needs drilling, my blood runs cold. I’ve been to a dentist once or twice as a kid, and I’ve had a filling done before – I can still hear and feel the awful sensation of drilling. And now, apparently, I’m about to experience it again.

Once the awful ordeal starts, I do my best to keep quiet. I try to think of anything else, try to occupy my mind with anything besides the deep but sharp pain in my jaw, the awful noise, the unsettling feeling of fingers and tools being forced into my mouth and bringing back disgusting memories. I try, I really do, I swear. And I really wish I could have stopped the squeak that escapes my painfully wide open mouth. I wish I could have stopped it, because the glare that the man standing above gives me is downright murderous.

‘Eren, are you alright?’ Levi’s voice is loud and clear, with a hint of worry.

Those eyes are cold and challenging.

‘Y-yeh…’ I croak out as best I can with my tongue back and jaw hanging open.

The drilling continues and I hold back my tears against the pain.

 

 

The leash on my neck is a welcoming comfort once we leave the office and move on to pay at the reception and to buy our prescribed medicines in the nearby pharmacy – especially since the leash is fastened with soft words of encouragement and praise, which, I don’t know if I necessarily deserve, but neither am I going to reject them when the man makes them sound so genuine. The leash grounds me back, reminds me that I’m once more under Levi’s gentle and secure care; I’m in his hands now, not the doctors’.

Neither am I going to reject the fantastic idea of going to get ice cream for later, when I’m allowed to eat again in a couple of hours – according to the dentist. As Levi and I make our way through the aisles at a leisurely pace, a large bright poster ad catches my attention – simply because the girl on the ad looks very much like Mikasa. Only then do I notice the thing that’s being advertised; it’s just some ordinary cereal bar with dried strawberries and almonds. Doesn’t look half bad, I’ll give them that. But what I’ve learned so far in those large shops is that the ad and the actual product almost never look the same. Doesn’t stop you from being curious about the taste, though.

‘You want something?’

It’s only then that I realise I’ve stopped dead in my tracks; staring at the Mikasa-like girl, or the bar; I don’t know. ‘Can- Can I, um… have this one, um, cereal bar?’ As soon as the words are out of my mouth I feel so utterly stupid. _Fucking dammit, Eren; you’re not five._ The initial thought was to break another barrier, and ask something for myself, some kind of treat. I’ve picked things before; groceries I would need for a particular kind of dish, or a pair of shoes or jeans that Levi decided I needed. Every time we go grocery shopping, he always tells me to get whatever I want; I know he means it, and yet I never worked up the courage, or maybe the _audacity_ , to ask. Now that I did, I feel stupid.

But Levi’s unseeing eyes soften. ‘You don’t have to ask. Just let me know. Like with those magazines there, yeah?’

‘Oh. Alright. Well. I’ll get the- the cereal bar, then. Is that okay?’

He huffs a small laugh but agrees to the compromise on words and we make our way to the check-out with a box of toffee ice-cream and a single cereal bar.

 

High spirits accompany me through the small shopping trip, the first bus journey, right up until the moment we reach a stop to wait for the second bus. As I lead Levi to the sitting bench at the stop, there are three people sitting there already; a middle-aged and well-dressed woman with earphones in, seeming oblivious to the world, and a pair of other people on her right – namely a slave, sitting right beside her, and the slave’s master, sitting at the slave’s left. Levi and I take a seat so that I sit beside the tuned-out woman and Levi sits on the edge of the bench.

The few seconds between getting off the first bus and sitting down, those few seconds that I had to look at the slave make my blood boil and cold sweat break out on my skin at the same time. She’s a tiny girl; it’s hard to tell whether it’s because of her height or because she’s so starved, but perhaps it’s both. Her stick-like arms and calves are pale and covered with bruises, scars, and goose bumps, her skin exposed to the winter air, her beige knee-length and short-sleeved dress looking absolutely ridiculous in the frosty weather. Her thin long blond hair is tied up in a messy bun, some strands covering her expressionless face and falling into her dead and sad big blue eyes, staring into space, somewhere near her bare feet. All the while her master sits comfortably and in warm clothes, complete with a scarf and heavy-looking boots, not paying any attention to the quivering form beside him as he keeps swiping his thumb across his phone screen. The only indication that this man is this small girl’s owner is his tight grip on her leash.

I want to murder that man. There’s such blind fury in me that I can feel myself straining to fight against letting my body shake with it. I’ve seen slaves before; not often, though – I’m guessing that if someone is deranged enough to buy a sex slave, minus the one in a million Levi-like case, then they won’t bother to drag them around the city; they’d probably rather keep them chained to their beds or in their basement like the toys and objects they believe they are. But I’ve seen them, and I’ve seen them in different states. Some wearing shoes, some not. Some wearing more clothes than others, and some looking more taken care of than others; naturally, all were on leashes, and I only ever saw them in passing, without ever having a chance to look at them more carefully. Now, I had a chance to look at that girl for a short moment, but I know that I’ve never seen a slave as neglected as her.

‘Eren, are you listening to me?’

I physically shake myself out of my thoughts. Shit. ‘Wha- um, sorry, what? No, I- I wasn’t listening, sorry, I-’

‘Are you alright?’ Levi sounds concerned at the distress in my voice that even I can pick up on, even though I try to hide it.

Glancing sideways and deciding that the woman beside me is still detached from the outside world and doesn’t seem to be keen on eavesdropping, I answer in a frustrated whisper. ‘There- There’s a slave here, Levi. She’s… God, she’s so starved- fuck. And she’s barely even wearing anything in- in _this_ weather! And her owner, he’s just- he’s all wrapped up, nice and warm while she’s just shaking there… Levi, it’s- it’s not fair! I- shit, I just want to go punch him, I’m going to go punch him-’

‘Brat. Calm down.’ Levi’s voice is cold and authoritative.

‘But-! Can you- can you talk to him? Please, it’s- he can’t just do that! Help me, please help me convince him?’

‘Eren, no. I won’t.’ I don’t understand. He’s always so good to me, so considerate; he’s never been indifferent to human suffering, he showed me this so many times before. Why does he turn a blind eye – both figuratively and literally – to this poor girl’s suffering?

I feel anger bubbling up inside me and it’s particularly hideous, because it’s directed at Levi. ‘Why don’t you want to help her, why don’t you care?’ I throw the accusations in an angry whisper still.

‘Drop it. Eren, drop it.’

This time, his tone shows he will not accept refusal, and that he will not bend. I want to say something more, but end up giving an angry huff and sulking in silence. Levi’s face remains expressionless, and that only angers me further. How can he sit so still, so calm, when someone within an arm’s reach is suffering so terribly?

It doesn’t take much longer for some other bus to arrive and the woman between myself and the girl to get up and get on it. This gives me another opportunity to steal a sideways glance at the trembling, skinny slave. Apart from the shivers, she appears to not have moved an inch, just like her master who’s still glued to his phone. Ever so carefully, I slide across the bench by the tiniest amount towards the girl, an idea forming in my head. I watch Levi cautiously; if he took notice of my movement, he doesn’t show it. Then, trying to be as quiet as possible, I slowly reach my hand into my coat pocket and ever so slowly take out the bar that Levi bought for me. Keeping my movements agonisingly slow in order to not attract attention from the man at his phone, I put the bar on the bench between myself and the blonde without even turning towards her; I only observe her from the corner of my eye. She doesn’t move. I push my hand with the food closer towards her; that’s when I hear the bus tyres screeching to a halt and I nearly jump out of my own skin. Luck has it that it is the one Levi and I are taking. Abandoning the bar on the bench and hoping the girl takes it, I inform Levi with an emotionless voice that our bus has arrived and lead him to the door.

I’m still being a stupid kid, and I’m still sulking and not saying a word for a good ten minutes during our bus ride. Naturally, it is Levi who is grown up and mature and starts the conversation. ‘Eren, be reasonable-’ He starts but stops quickly, seemingly finding a better way to phrase his words. ‘Will you listen to my reasoning or do you prefer to keep sulking?’

‘…Yeah.’ Well, that couldn’t have been more vague.

My answer earns me a sigh. ‘I understand your frustration. I can imagine it, really. But it’s not our place to interfere. As much as I wish I could help, I can’t. Sure, we could pick a fight with him and punch him to a pulp, but what good would it do? We’d end up being the ones in trouble; in everyone’s eyes, he’s not doing anything wrong or unlawful. Do you think we’d even manage to change his ways? He’d just continue to treat that slave in the same way he used to. In addition, in case you’ve forgotten; I’m blind. I wouldn’t be able to protect you if we’d get in a fight with him and say, he was armed or even just a really good puncher. It’s just not our place to- we just can’t do anything here. Can you at least try and understand?’

Goddamn him. Why does he have to be always right? As the anger seeps out of me and his words register in my mind, I realise what an absolute idiot I’m being. Indeed, it was really _blind_ rage. I hate his ability to be always right, just as I hate myself now for thinking he doesn’t care, and worse; for being angry with him. The abused, traumatised, and fearful part of my mind tells me that I have _no right_ to be angry with my master, but once more, I try to dismiss that kind of thoughts. Still, the guilt and shame makes my shoulders drop and head bow.

‘I’m…uh... I’m sorry, I- I got so angry, I shouldn’t have, I know I shouldn’t. I’m sorry, I- please, I’m sorry for being angry.’

‘It’s fine. Apology accepted. I’m not angry, Eren. You’re entitled to your opinion, to be angry and I understand your frustration and your pain, too. I just hope you understand now.’ With a bit of wandering, his hand finds the top of my head and pulls me to lean against his shoulder. I follow his movement willingly, seeking comfort, suddenly in intense need for it.

‘I do.’ I mean what I say.

‘I’m glad.’ We sit in silence for a while, swaying gently with the bus. ‘You gave her the bar.’

My body stiffens against his. ‘I did. I’m… I’m sorry, are- are you angry?’

He pulls me tighter against him. ‘Of course not, brat. How could I be? When you’ve done such a good, considerate thing. I hope she’ll get to hide it and eat it when her owner is not looking.’ I relax again, feeling the tension between us disappear, making my body sag with blissful relief.

 

 

To our pleased surprise there’s something good on the TV in the evening for once; the by-now familiar voices of Mulder and Scully make me hurry to the living room with our spoons and tub of ice-cream in hand – Levi introduced me to The X Files some two weeks ago, apparently just when they started airing reruns from the beginning, and I immediately got drawn in by the characters and the story; not to mention that this was the first time I even had the experience of watching a television show. But I like it; like that there’s more than one episode of what I like. How awesome.

Handing one of the spoons to Levi and holding the icy treat, I snuggle close into his side, not at all shy anymore about seeking out his touch and company in this way. Having done it a number of times before and not being rejected made me bold like that. What can I say; nothing is as soothing as Levi’s warmth and presence.

The episode turns out to be a rerun from just yesterday – which I watched on my own, as Levi wanted to work on his articles alone for a while – with Mulder and Krycek being held in something like a Russian gulag. Glancing at Levi, I see his focused expression as he takes in the dialogue and other sounds; apparently, he’s a big fan of Krycek’s character, and this episode is one of his favourites. But for me, seeing this episode once was enough and with passing minutes my mind starts to wander.

A playful thought forms in my head when I see Levi’s spoon stuck in the slowly melting toffee goodness. Picking up the spoon and scooping up a bit of the ice-cream on it, I lift it close to Levi’s face.

‘Leviiii.’ I say quietly to get his attention but not wanting to interrupt in case he’s heavily invested in the particular scene in the episode. He responds with a questioning hum and a slight tilt of his head towards mine. ‘Say _‘aaah’_.’ I snort at myself, realising how silly I’m being.

Levi’s eyebrows shoot up then pull together in confusion, before he snorts and huffs a laugh too when he realises what this idiot called Eren is up to. I’m somewhat happily surprised when he actually decides to humour me, parts his small lips a bit and gives an amused-sounding _‘Aaaaah’_. I slip the spoon into his mouth, watching his pale pink lips wrinkle as he presses them to the curved metal to drag the melting treat onto his tongue. I withdraw the spoon, watching Levi swallow and lick his lips for good measure.

‘Yum. Thanks.’ He says with his normal stoic expression, save for a small smirk which lets me know he didn’t mind this weird action, wherever it came from, as I cuddle back into his side.

He seems capable enough to turn his attention back to listening to the TV, but for me that’s just not happening anymore. My thoughts are too focused on him. Nothing in particular, just him, just Levi. Just his presence in general, and the comfort – the _blessing,_ I dare say – it provides. Not being used to expect good things due to experience, I naturally think to the more depressing things; such as Levi _not_ being here. Levi not being with me; me not being with him. Something separating us, something taking me away, or the other possibility of another master taking me in altogether and me, never having the chance to even meet him. Just the thought of me being away from him… I realise it’s making me nauseous. It’s an awful thought, and ‘distressing’ would be putting it lightly. The obvious truth is that I don’t want to be away from him.

I can’t help but wonder what Levi would say about these sentiments. Is there a chance he feels in a similar way? He cares for me, of course; making sure I’m happy and healthy. But he could be doing that just because he’s a genuinely good person; he would probably treat any other slave living with him in the same way. But then I wonder to the times when he so clearly didn’t seem to mind my company; a striking example being the case when he broke the glass in the middle of the night, when he was clearly distressed and anxious and yet, he didn’t reject my company. There’s a part of me that wishes – quite desperately, I realise – that he wanted _my_ company, not just any company. I try to decide to do it once, just once; to be adventurous and courageous with my thoughts. For a moment, I let myself think that he enjoys my company just as much as I enjoy his; just to see how that thought will feel.

And it briefly takes my breath away. It’s a pleasant notion. And yet, it doesn’t make sense; why do I always get the feeling that he’s somewhat holding himself back around me? And holding back from what, I do not know. From taking what is legally his, and what I originally thought I was here for? And if I’d have a choice – as he always tells me that I do – would I let him? And if I did; would I do it just out of obligation, out of gratitude for all he’s done for me? The big question; would I want it? _Do_ I want it?

I frown at myself and my own thoughts; I don’t even know what this brain of mine wants of me. Perhaps it wants some explanation from the high heavens as to what it’s actually feeling towards and about this man beside me, because it sure as hell isn’t capable of figuring it out by itself. The paths it tries to take now and again in search for this enlightenment seem too overwhelming at the first glance, so I withdraw. Instead, I try to focus once again on what’s here and what’s solid; Levi’s body beside mine, his breath, and his warmth. That’s all I need to focus on.

 

 

And yet, I look for more. The thoughts of what it is that Levi might be holding back from, as well as that infinitely weird leaflet at the clinic lead me to something that could be described as some sort of a personal breakthrough in my recovery – using Levi’s words, who said it a couple of times that my _recovery_ will be a lot of work, but we’ll make it – or whatnot. Whatever it is, it leads me to having a thorough shower and paying particular attention to my groin, after which I find myself naked under the bed covers in my room once I’m sure that the other man is sound asleep in his.

It’s an experiment.

And it feels weird, even the sheets in direct contact with all of my skin. I’ve definitely gotten used to wearing clothes all the time, besides washing. Back at Keith’s place – _no_. _Shit, don’t think about that now. That’s the last thing to think about now. Just breathe, now._

I’ve done this before. Curiosity got the better of my young teenage body even before I was taken. Once in the brothel, I didn’t need to masturbate ever again. The mere thought of it repulsed me; anything related to sex repulsed me. I had enough of it forced on me there. Coming from a small, close-minded village, I never got to find out whether touching yourself is actually a weird, abnormal thing. Until today. It never would have occurred to me that it could be so common, and I definitely wouldn’t even think of it being in any way beneficial, health-wise. Stress relief? Accepting your body? I could definitely use some of those. And more importantly? Breaking yet another shackle – taking back another thing that Keith has taken from me. Apparently, sex is something that can be enjoyed by all parties involved; I can’t imagine that happening – he took that from me. The trauma he put me through shattered me to the point where I fear that any sliver of arousal or intimate stimulation will send me head first into a panic attack. That’s _not normal_. I want to break that.

Taking a breath and closing my eyes in an attempt to steady my hammering heart, I slip my arms under the covers. Not entirely sure how to actually start this, I opt for feeling my body around a bit – isn’t that what that article said? Something about accepting and feeling your body, or whatever? So I try to rub my upper arms gently, which is perhaps still not gentle enough to be anywhere near erotically stimulating, because I’m really not feeling anything, I don’t feel like I’m getting into ‘the mood’ or whatever, at all. Well, I feel fucking ridiculous and self-conscious right now. I open my eyes just for a moment to check that I’m actually alone in my room. Heaving another sigh or two and trying to relax, I move my hands to run them around my chest and up and down my neck, managing to tone it down to actual gentle caresses instead of senseless rubbing. That’s actually a bit more pleasant; it gets nicer when my fingertips warm up a bit more from the friction. I make sure to keep track of my breathing; maybe this won’t be so bad.

I don’t intend to drag my fingers over a nipple, but when it inevitably happens when my hand is on my chest, a white-hot memory of the pain inflicted so often on that sensitive area flashes behind my eyelids. I gasp, turning my head to the side, hoping to shake that thought out of my mind. I lick my lips after they’ve gone dry with the few heavy breaths. _Breathe._ Okay, let’s not do that, then. Maybe we can get around that.

Still feeling somewhat on edge, I’m determined to make progress so I move my hands to my stomach and sides. It’s yet another odd feeling when my fingers don’t literally get caught on my protruding ribs. I gasp once more, but for a different reason; _Levi_. It’s thanks to Levi that I’m not a walking stick. Well; since my train of thought is on him now, I take a risk and, bit by bit, try to force the image into my head that it is him who’s touching me. A welcoming warmth spreads through my body in a slow, rolling wave as I try to convince myself that it’s those slender, strong and pale fingers, those beautiful hands feeling my body. Once I get comfortable enough with that thought, I allow the rest of him to complete the mental image of his arms; in my mind’s eye, I see him straddling me, and surprisingly, this thought is only a little uncomfortable. It’s Levi. I’d be safe. If I’d feel trapped, he’d get off of me.

Still being very conscious of my breathing, I run my fingers over my gently moving ribs again. No, _he_ touches me. Would he like my body more now? Would he feel attracted to the way it feels under his fingertips, to the way it would submit to him? Would he want my submission? I lick my lips again, hearing the sheets rustle as my legs slowly fall open for him. _Please, will you make me feel safe and warm and wanted with your touch?_

The hands travel lower, below my navel, the skin slightly ticklish there. There is a slight uneasiness forming in my sub-consciousness, but I try to force it down. I focus on Levi exploring me, the hands on my thighs, the touch infinitely gentle. But the discomfort grows and growls as the touch finally reaches my shaft. I throw my head to the other side, fighting to keep otherwise still, to keep my legs obediently open. For him.

I keep my anxiety hidden well; he doesn’t notice it because he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, his touch becoming surprisingly rough, his grip on my sensitive flesh becoming painfully tight. I squeeze my eyes shut in a wince, willing myself to relax, to let him do as he pleases. If this is the treatment he sees fit, I’ll take it. He knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

But my body is starting to reject the forceful touch, the drag of his nails over my inner thighs hard enough to leave burning lines, the abnormally hot fingers digging into my flesh, the low animalistic growls above me. My legs close on their own accord and I weep at my body’s reaction; I’ll be hit, I’ve always been it when I closed my legs when I wasn’t supposed to. The slap to my face doesn’t come as a surprise; first one cheek, then the other. The hits beat that pleasant warmth out of me, leaving my body shaking with cold dread. And yet, I keep my eyes closed; I’m too scared to see Levi’s face, to associate him with those disgusting acts. But then a hand wraps around my throat and I involuntarily look up.

My mouth drops in a silent scream. Levi’s there, his face mercilessly cruel, pale grey eyes burning with hatred, so focused as if he could see me. He brings his other hand up to my throat too, and all I can do is uselessly scratch at his arms as I feel my oesophagus being crushed. My shoulders shake with silent sobs as another pair of hands – _my own hands –_ scratch and pull at my own face. He shakes my head, and then the pressure is gone. His hands are gone. _He_ is gone.

I’m alone in the room. No one is touching me. Oh God.

Doubling over on my side under the covers, I bring a hand to my mouth in fear of throwing up any second. I shake through the blinding panic but thankfully manage to not make a mess of my bed with half-digested dinner; not like my legs seem like they’d cooperate and carry me to the bathroom in time.

God. What the fuck was that? So much for breaking barriers.

Once I manage to calm myself down, my first coherent thought is one of frustration. _Really, Eren? That was pathetic._ But how could my own mind go against me like that? Especially with Levi being so cruel… He’d never be like that. He’d never force himself on me, God, he’d never choke me.

Would he?

I find myself wishing that I could know for sure.

 

 

I wake up shaking. It’s definitely not the first time I’ve had a nightmare, and yet it’s the first time it wasn’t focused on Keith’s creative forms of torture. No; this dream was about Levi. About him dying.

Feeling light-headed with residual terror, I get out of the bed and stumble a little on my wobbly legs. Once I feel confident enough on them to not walk sideways into the wardrobe, I let them carry me briskly through the dark apartment until I find myself standing at the edge of Levi’s bed. I try not to think about the incident that happened following the last time I showed up by his bed in the dark, uninvited.

Doesn’t matter. He’s here, safe and sound. He’s breathing, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He’s in one piece and sleeping peacefully. He’s alright. He’s alive.

I try, I really do, but a relieved sob wrenches itself out of my throat despite my efforts.

He’s up in an instant, holding his upper body up on his elbows – well he sure is a light sleeper. Sleepy confusion is evident on his face, but it turns into wide-eyed alarm as he hears me sniffle. ‘Eren? Is that you?’ He sounds more panicked than his face even lets on.

‘I-I…’ I want to apologize for coming here and for being a fucking stupid child.

‘Eren? What’s going on?!’ He reaches out a hand in the general direction of my voice. ‘Talk to me! Why are you crying? Are you hurt?’

And I just can’t take it; his first thought, his first worry is that I’m hurt. Not that I’ve appeared in his room in the middle of the night without being called for. So I stand there, weeping, tears finally falling. He’s alive, he’s safe, and he’s his usual self; full of concern and worry. He shifts so that he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, seemingly more awake now. Hesitantly, he opens his arms, as if he’s not sure whether I want to be comforted.

God, he’ll never be able to comprehend how much I _need_ it.

So I all but leap onto his bed, sitting beside him and turning towards him, letting his arms wrap around my body as I keep him close in my own grip. The relieving closeness combined with the still lingering terror of the nightmare make me shake and sob in earnest.

His voice is so gentle that I almost miss it over my own cries. ‘Hey… It’s- What’s wrong, Eren? Come on, you can tell me, what happened? Shh, it’s okay.’

So I tell him, as best I can with the way the sobs interrupt my words. I tell him how I dreamt we were in a car, and for whatever reason, he insisted on driving, saying that he could see enough shapes to do so. He was dropping me to Armin’s house for the New Year’s Eve party. I tell him how I watched it on the news how he got into an accident on the way back, how bloody and disfigured his dead body was. How guilty I felt. How I mourned and how no one would let me see his body or even tell me where he was buried because of what I am.

A soft _‘Oh’_ is the only reply he manages for a while. I manage to reign in my sobs to hear him talk after a few moments. ‘It’s alright now, Eren. I’m here. We’re both safe, okay? It was only a bad dream. Come on, let’s get you back to your bed, hm?’

I let us stumble back into my room where I flop down on the bed and feel ridiculous, despite my still sleepy haze, as Levi practically tucks me in under the covers like a small child. Ridiculous, but safe; yet I’m still shivering. ‘Do you need something? You want me to put the light on, maybe?’

There’s only one thing that I need. ‘S-stay.’ I make a grab for his wrist as he straightens up. ‘Just… Just for a few minutes. _Please._ ’

For a painfully tense moment he hesitates in my trembling grip, but then doesn’t refuse and slowly slips under the covers with me, on his side and facing me. I waste no time in finding refuge in his body, ducking my head underneath his chin as we once more hold each other’s bodies close. He starts rubbing gentle circles over my back, shushing me quietly and repeating soft words of reassurance and comfort. That it’s okay.

And maybe it really is, because a sense of tranquillity washes over me as I realise I’ve finally found the answer. My brain has caught up. It finally understands what I feel.

I love him.

I’m surprised that this realisation comes so naturally; almost expectedly, as if it’s the only logical outcome, the only natural progression, the only possibility. Another interesting discovery is that it doesn’t feel like ‘being in love’, or being infatuated; it feels like something much deeper, more profound. It’s not making my heart hammer; it makes me feel calm. It’s not making me blind or senseless, to mindlessly worship him and every fibre of his being like a god. He might have a heart of gold, he might be an angel in the way he treats me with his care, concern and utter determination to keep me happy and healthy; with the way he sacrificed himself for his students. But he’s not perfect; he’s irritable at times, and according to Hanji, it’s his personality trait and not only his depression’s doing. Maybe he’s a bit too devout to rules and laws, like when he preferred to keep his head in the sand and not confront the man today about his obvious mistreating of the slave. But then again, he did have reasonable arguments… What my brain is trying to comprehend here, is that even though Levi has so little faults, they’re there, and I’m able to see them. He’s not perfect, because he’s human. And that’s why I feel so close to him. He’s perfect with his pure heart and all his weaknesses and imperfections. And that’s why all the emotions I’ve felt before suddenly make sense; the gnawing and unbearable ache in my chest when I saw his vulnerability, his pain, his insecurities. The rage of injustice I’ve felt when he told me the awful story of his accident, injury and ultimately his disability. The bone-deep sadness and the bittersweet taste of his passion for his work and yet his inability to carry it out to the full, all the while being so dejected towards the work he’s doing now. I simply didn’t want to see him unhappy. Because I love him. And because I want to be with him, even though I’m aware it’s not possible; I’m not his equal, even though we’re both human. But I’ll take whatever I can get, and I’ll be grateful for it; grateful to fate that she brought our lives together, even if in such an odd way. The thought that he doesn’t love me back is painful, but not unbearably so. It’s logical enough. But I can understand, and I can appreciate what he gives me; I can appreciate his companionship, his friendship, the ability to be in his life and close to him.

The feelings are overwhelming in their clarity and I can’t stop the heartfelt words of confession that leave my lips in a heated whisper. ‘Please don’t die before I do.’

I feel him become still for a moment. He doesn’t reply; only holds me tighter until the last of my shivers stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a bit of a wait ^^' And if the chapter wasn't very eventful D: But hey, we're finally getting somewhere with those two, right? ^^'


	15. The Awakened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbSZhGONRBg (Amber Run - I found)

Life continues as normal; my realisation barely changes anything. I still cook, I still clean, I still study. We still go for a walk for two, and Hanji still visits once, and the world still spins. The snow still falls and the sun still sets each evening. Not much changes, because I’ve loved him all this time anyway, my emotions are not foreign; I just couldn’t put my finger on that feeling before now. Perhaps the main change is the utter sensation of tranquillity that flows through and around me, to the point where it’s almost strange. Ironically, maybe even a bit unnerving? I feel like I should be worried, should be on edge; I have been for such a long time, and it was a necessity for my survival. But now… I feel at peace. I still miss Mikasa. I still miss Jean. My skin still crawls at the memories of what happened in that brothel, and at the fact that there is a collar on my neck. But somehow it all comes easier; the sharp painful edges are somewhat dulled. I feel like I’m in a safe, warm, and content bubble. I’ve found refuge in this lonely man and his small apartment. In the feeling that I finally managed to define and come to terms with; no more confusing emotions. So, while the daily routine doesn’t change much, I find myself enjoying and appreciating it more. Paying more attention. Relishing and cherishing it more, because Levi is the main part of it all. I don’t just cook for my owner; I cook for the man I love. I don’t just study; I’m getting a chance to spend time with someone so close to my heart – and maybe more than once I end up leaning on his shoulder, head underneath his chin and his arm around my shoulder as he tells me wonderful tales about science. We go for walks, but it’s more than that; my little naïve heart swells at the silly thoughts of what it would be like if one of these walks was a date – even though it’s out of the realm of possibility. It’s fun to dream. The sun may set every day, but I don’t dwell on the warm rays disappearing behind the horizon; instead, I marvel how they caress Levi’s skin through the window, making him look even more beautiful than he is – who knew it was possible? Maybe that’s why the sun hides every evening? Because it failed yet again; another day passed and it can’t be more beautiful and breath-taking than him – so it hides in shame. Wow, that was sappy, wasn’t it? But it’s a happy silly thought. Or maybe it’s true. Because it’s him. Everything is _him_. _He_ makes everything better, brighter. And peaceful. I’m content. Things aren’t perfect; some abusive memories still hold my mind captive, but I can face them. With time. With Levi.

But I’m greedy and impatient. I want more, and I want it now; I want to face those fears which so recently left me shaking, naked under the covers, _now._ And I want Levi to help me. I want his final confirmation, that I’m forever free of the humiliating tortures.

But when the results from my STI check-up come back all wonderfully negative a week later, when Levi gives me the envelope and makes me read the contents out loud, when the words leave my mouth… My breath stops for a moment. I stare at Levi, standing in front of me in the kitchen, expressionless. There’s a feeling of being like a deer caught in the headlights – a sensation which, come to think of it, isn’t even that foreign to me anymore. Strangely enough. It takes me a moment to catch up with what my mind is actually thinking. My eyes widen as I stand there, holding my breath, realising that I expected the man to jump – maybe quite literally – on me, or pin me against a wall or bend me over the table and finally claim me, now that he’s finally certain that I’m not some diseased animal. I watch him, alert and on edge, with all hairs on my neck standing upright, realising that he still might be intending to do it, that he might be planning and calculating his move.

But when the smallest of smiles softens his expression, I feel utterly stupid that I’ve let these old instincts beat my logic. There was no other possibility to such news besides that pleased smile of his. ‘I’m glad you’re healthy.’

Before he manages to disappear back in his room again, I stop him hastily. ‘Um, Levi, um-! Wanna, uh, take a break? I could use a break from dusting? Wanna have some tea? Or- or something?’

His hand hovers above the door handle, but then he slowly turns around with that small smile. ‘Yeah. Why not. Do you wanna brew the cherry one?’

‘The cherry one?’ I repeat stupidly, but the truth is that the cherry tea is a treasure for special occasions that has only been opened for us to get a whiff of the lovely aroma, and that’s been about it.

‘The cherry one.’ He laughs lightly. ‘Let’s drink to your health.’

I pretty much run to the kettle.

 

 

The following week has us visiting Hanji for a change. It’s the first time I’m going to her house, but when I step into the more modern and messier apartment than Levi’s own, I’m not surprised at all. Somehow, it’s very _Hanji_. But it’s not just her own flat; Levi was kind enough – as always – to inform me in advance of what I’m going to face, or in this case, whom. Hanji lives with her boyfriend, Moblit, and Levi spent a good while praising him and telling me about his calmness, sensibility, and ability to somehow keep his mad partner out of trouble. My interest peaks at the mention of his apparent sense of justice and slaves’ rights activism in his senior college years. Now that’s something I find difficult to imagine; so there are more people like Levi? People who will openly go out there and, what, protest against brothels and collars and objectification? Apparently, the reason why I haven’t met him yet was his absence due to a business trip. Now, Hanji wants to celebrate his return by having us over for dinner.

So I treat it as a challenge, another chance for progress. I walk into that house, deciding that I’ll do my best to greet Moblit and behave like a normal person. He’ll be the first person – the first _man_ – that I’ll face without fear, that I will not cower from. But when I see the calm, average-built, brown-haired man coming from the kitchen to greet us, I realise I don’t even have to try very hard to keep to my goal.

‘Good evening, sir. Pleasure to meet you.’ My words are clear, without stutters. My handshake is sure, and the smile on my face is genuine.

‘Hello. Please, just call me Moblit.’ He returns the smile and the handshake. ‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, too. I’ve heard so much about you.’ My smile falters as I withdraw my hand and he picks up on it immediately. ‘Only good things though, don’t worry. Hanji loves you to bits.’

‘O-oh.’ That’s not something I expected to hear, but I guess it’s nothing bad either.

‘Oh yeah, babe you should totally be jealous. You were gone for so long, I was planning on taking Eren out on a date.’ Hanji’s loud voice rings in the entire apartment, completely drowning out the cluttering of cutlery she sets on the table. ‘Too bad Levi called dibs. Couldn’t split the lovebirds.’ She pouts while continuing to set the table, as if she’s saying perfectly reasonable and normal things.

‘Han, have you ever considered _not_ making guests uncomfortable?’ Seeing the man sigh and roll his eyes as if he hears that kind of things every day makes me laugh a little. The woman is definitely a character, and living with her on a daily basis must be _intense,_ that’s for sure.

‘But then she wouldn’t be Hanji.’ Levi adds in with his perfect observation. Indeed, what would Hanji be without her wholesome weirdness?

Turns out that the pair made fantastic baked salmon, marinated in soy sauce and sesame oil and ginger and who knows what else, but it smells amazing and has me salivating before the plate is even set in front of me. The side of white rice in a perfect hemisphere almost looks more like a decoration and momentarily I feel bad for ruining it but I stop caring as soon as the heavenly food is in my mouth. A bit of light-hearted chit-chat builds up and I genuinely surprise myself when I realise I’m a part of it. I’m contributing to the conversation, thanks to actually knowing something from Levi’s lessons and Armin’s book, but also thanks to those three lovely people around the table that keep me included. When we don’t talk, we busy ourselves with food; first with the fish, and then with the cheesecake (cherry, to Levi’s delight) for dessert. Hanji, being her usual self, does weird things even at the table, in company. But Moblit puts up with it all, lets Hanji feed him, lean on him, or make a cone of cherries on his plate – I don’t really have to be a psychology major or even very observant to know that he actually enjoys the strange shenanigans, because they’re both deeply in love. It brings a smile to my face how these two are such polar opposites, and yet they make such a perfect couple. The stoic man doesn’t mind her quirks, no matter how theatrical his eyerolls are. He not only tolerates those oddities; he accepts and loves them, because they are what make Hanji who she is. And he seems to be so in over his head, it’s heart-warming, really.

In the same way I love Levi. How can I not love his obsession with cleanliness, his love for physics, his short temper, his short posture, his blind eyes, his insecurities; everything that makes him Levi. I love him whole. And that’s why my heart hurts just a little when I watch the uninhibited affection that the woman showers the man in front of me with. When she delivers an obnoxiously loud kiss to the tip of his nose I laugh, but my eyes grow heavy with unshed tears. No matter how much I wish for it, I’d never be allowed to show such affection to Levi. But then a hand finds mine under the table and squeezes it once. Any traces of sadness are gone as I squeeze back once in reply. I’m all right. In my situation, I probably couldn’t have been better.

But he proves me wrong when he props up a cherry on his spoon with a tiny poke of his other hand, as if to make sure that the fruit is there, and brings it up, not too far from my face. My cheeks go up in flames as I realise what he’s doing, but take a light hold of his wrist nonetheless to guide the spoon to my mouth. Hanji’s loud voice adds to my embarrassment. ‘Awww! Look babe, they’re so cute!’ But I find myself ceasing to care when Levi leans into my arm, slowly chewing on the last piece of his cake. Hanji downright giggles as she settles in against Moblit’s chest while he absentmindedly starts to make plaits from her wild loose strands.

My eyes are still wet, but this time from happiness. From the bone-deep joy of acceptance, inclusion, and love for my newfound family.

 

 

The dinner at Hanji’s and Moblit’s place can definitely be summed up as a success, in terms of that mental progress of mine. And I don’t stop there; I’m determined to reclaim my body and overcome that disgusting obstacle. So I don’t let that pitiful failure that took place last week deter me. I try again the following day, and the next, and the day after that. Despite feeling somewhat silly about the sheer determination with which I slip my hand between my legs, I keep trying. First, I make all the efforts to not think about anything else besides the stimulating friction; I manage for a while, but the memories still come. They still make me stop, they still make me double over; but the panic attack isn’t as severe and a few deep breaths are enough to calm my heart. The attempt the following night takes me a bit further; I manage to achieve something close to a full erection, my flesh warm and heavy with blood in my hand. The feeling of accomplishment distracts me from my careful, measured breathing and I end up abandoning the task _at hand_ yet again. But that’s okay. I keep trying, and after a couple of days – or evenings, should I say – I manage to bring myself to full erection, to the point where it actually feels good. I even take the risk of letting the image of Levi’s face and hands fill my mind and it’s not as panic-inducing as before. It still puts me on edge; the visions of abuse associating themselves with his calm face against my will. So I stop, yet again too scared and unable to climax, the arousal taking a significant amount of time and frustration to dissipate. But it’s okay; I’ll get there.

Every little success and every hug and touch from Levi encourages me, spurs me on. Speaking of which, there’s been more and more of those these days; couch cuddles are an almost daily occurrence, as natural as breakfast and the rising sun. It’s hard to imagine that just a couple of weeks ago, this man had to force me to say that I was human. Oh, but I am so very human, and so very humanly greedy and desperate. All too soon, the hugs and cuddling don’t seem to be enough. Catching myself staring at his lips, I have to fight the urge to brush them with my fingers. I want more of him, more of his touch and his closeness. Being close to him always means safety and warmth, and I want more of it. Maybe it’s because I am so desperate for him to prove me that he won’t hurt me when I’m at my most vulnerable. Maybe it’s because of the accumulating frustration of masturbation without release. Maybe it’s because I’m a snotty hormonal brat. Or maybe it’s because I really just _crave_ his closeness, and because I want to make him feel good, too. My mind is on an irrational overdrive fuelled by desire, focused on intimacy and sex. And yet I find myself surprised when I don’t feel utterly dirty and disgusting. But maybe that’s the key, isn’t it? I don’t want to be intimate with him for physical pleasure. Sexual arousal seems like a secondary goal; or maybe it’s not even _a_ goal? I only want to be close to him, feel every inch of his chilly skin, the beat of his heart in his veins, the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes.

The last week of January isn’t starting off well for Levi in terms of work. He doesn’t tell me much, preferring to, sadly, deal with those difficulties on his own, in the isolated space of his own room, but he did say enough for me to come to a conclusion that it’s got something to do with choosing topics for his future few articles. I figure it’s only half – or even less – of the truth; it shouldn’t cause him as much stress, should it? I can only hope his employer isn’t making his life difficult.

It’s Wednesday evening, and things don’t seem to be getting any better. He’s still glued to his desk in his room and asking for his tea to be brought there. I put in extra effort into keeping the apartment spotless and sparkling, just in case he decides to come out and join the living world once more. Besides, I think the smells of cleaning agents have some calming effects on him, but that’s just a theory.

I stop dead in my tracks while putting the window cleaner underneath the kitchen sink, when I hear some rather strange, quiet noises coming from behind the not-fully closed door of Levi’s bedroom.

Grunts. Sighs. Whispered swearing.

_Oh_.

My overactive imagination _helpfully_ supplies me with the rest of the story, making me blush right up to my ears. It doesn’t really explain why I find myself at his door a moment later and knocking. I blink once. What the hell am I doing? If he really is doing… what I think he is, then- _What the actual fuck, Eren?_ It must be some sort of morbid curiosity, making me ignore the prickling anxiety at my neck, from the mental image of Levi that threw me into panic the last few nights; Levi, half naked, pleasuring himself, sweaty, intimidating… Forceful-

‘Yeah, come in, Eren.’

His voice breaks my train of thought. I squint in minor surprise; his tone isn’t what I expected – it doesn’t really match my mental image of what’s expecting me behind that door. His voice is clear and stoic as usual; maybe just a little tired or frustrated. I scratch at my chest, hoping to get rid of the fear that did in the end manage to crawl up my lungs, but the aching gnawing sensation remains.

But of course, I’m an idiot. I push the door open and everything is normal. Levi’s sitting at his desk, clothed, calm, and collected. Well, maybe not exactly calm, if his head in his hand and the jiggling of his leg is any indication. Frowning, I decide that I’d probably rather find out that those noises were really what I expected them to be, and not because of his stress; better if he were relieving stress, not going through it. And yet, at the same time, the air feels… clear? My frown grows when this is the first word that pops into my mind. But his frustration seems somehow… normal? It doesn’t feel like a depressive episode, like crippling anxiety. It just feels like any normal healthy person stressing out over work. But then again, I’m an idiot, and I haven’t even talked to him, so maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

‘What is it, Eren?’ He sighs, sounding exhausted.

‘O-oh, um.’ Yeah, what _is it?_ Why am I even here? ‘Uhh… Do you want me to get you anything? Tea, maybe?’ Well, that sounds convincing and normal enough, right?

He groans softly. ‘No, thanks-’ He trails off, but it seems like he wants to say more. Which is perfect, because I’d love to know what’s bothering him so much. Hopefully encouraging him to rant a little will de-stress him a bit.

‘Levi, I, uh- I’m really worried, you know… What’s wrong? You’ve been so stressed out the last few days; I wish you’d tell me what’s going on…’ I don’t want to ask what I can do to help, because that’s ridiculous. The only thing I can do for him is make him another goddamn cup of tea – which won’t solve his problems – because I’m just _that_ fucking useless.

The man leans back in his chair, letting his head fall back, looking utterly defeated and giving another sigh. ‘Sorry, Eren. It’s uh- It’s not even that big of a deal, just working being a bitch, you know?’ I walk up a bit closer but remain quiet, hoping that my silence will prompt him to spill his worries; and when he starts talking again, I give myself a mental high-five. ‘Ah, they want some article on quantum physics, quantum electronics. In the light of the recent successful photon teleportation experiments, some non-scientists are getting interested, so the boss thinks it’ll be a big hit. But what does he say? Of course. No maths, no nitty-gritty details, nothing too complex, keep it simple. And like… Fucking, really? There’s literally nothing more complex than quantum physics. Like, physicists agreed that you can’t actually fully understand quantum physics, we agreed that we can’t predict some things, with Heisenberg’s famous uncertainty principle and all that, and hell, he wants me to write some bedtime story about that? With application in electronics and technology, which is a different and even more complex story altogether? Bullshit.’

I stand awkwardly behind his chair, having only understood only about a third of what he just said. The fact that I focused a lot on how his lean, strained throat moved as he spoke probably has something to do with it. Because I’m an idiot. ‘That… that sounds tough.’ I don’t really know what to say, what would sound good, so I just opt for the truth. ‘I- I wish I could help.’

He huffs a small laugh and it’s a relieving sound to hear. His head is still tilted back, his eyes closed – I wonder if that makes any difference for him. Does he feel better, more relaxed when he closes them? Does he enjoy the sensation? Or maybe he feels more normal then; maybe he fools himself just for a moment, that he can’t see just because his eyes are closed? I shake my head, hating how my thoughts take such dark, depressing turns whenever I stop paying attention to them. ‘It’s alright. You _are_ helping me though, you know? Hah, letting me rant like this…’

As if that’s even helpful… ‘Would you like a massage?’ Well, shit. Where did that even come from? Obviously my mouth’s got a mind of its own.

I’m relieved when he doesn’t laugh at me; he only gives a small huff. After a moment of thought, he speaks up again. ‘Well… Do you know how to? You’re not gonna snap my neck, are you?’

My eyes widen with the realisation that he’s not actually opposing the idea. He’s letting me do it. Holy hell. ‘O-of course not.’ I swallow a lump in my throat, suddenly horribly nervous. It can’t be that hard, can it? _Just don’t press too hard and it’ll be all good, Eren_ …

‘I hope not.’ There’s the smallest smile on his lips that eases my nerves a little. He sits up straight, his head straightened back up to give me more room to stand behind his chair. 

And so I do. Standing up behind him and rubbing my hands quickly to warm them, I lift them up – ignoring the small tremble – and… God, my mind goes so stupidly thick and blank. It’s almost as if it is not my hands that finally reach his neck; picking up this sensation is somewhat slowed down. Oh, but when I do finally register it- This is odd; I only touched him. And, besides, I’m pretty sure _Levi_ is the one who should be feeling amazing here, not me. And, what? That’s crazy. I’m only touching his neck. And yet it feels amazing. There’s that pleasant sensation of his smooth, slightly cold skin underneath my fingertips as I caress his neck and his prominent collarbones lightly, as far as his loose white T-shirt will allow. But there’s also this profound realisation that we’ve progressed so much as… as whatever we are. Master and slave doesn’t really describe us very well, does it? He’s more to me than a master, so much more. And he said it himself, I’m his friend; I still can’t come to terms with such a blessing. So I guess we’ve progressed as friends. He trusts me. He trusts me to now squeeze the back of his neck, to press into the trapezius muscle and gently knead the flesh. I’m no physiotherapist and I’ve got no idea how a muscle should feel normally to the touch, but I’m going to take a guess and assume that the hard-rock tension underneath my fingertips isn’t exactly normal.

I’m on full alert, observing and listening for any sounds or signs that I’m pressing too hard, squeezing too roughly – but he doesn’t give me any. As I work my way slowly over to his shoulders, I finally decide to ask, just to be sure; the last thing I want is to accidentally hurt him, or not make it pleasurable. ‘Levi, ah- Is this… good?’

He hums with a long exhale, followed by a murmured ‘Mhm.’ I can’t help but smile at that answer. I’m doing good.  

Trying to massage a part of the body still covered by clothes feels strange, so I slowly make my way back from his shoulders, back towards his nape. I lick my lips which went a little dry at the sight – and _feeling_ – of Levi’s body somewhat melting underneath my hands. His skin isn’t as cold after I’ve touched it, and the tension seems to have seeped out by the slightest amount. After another while, my hands seem to move on their own accord; they’re not guided by my mind, by my conscious thought of where and how much I should press. Instead, I stand there guided by sensation, by the familiarity with that small part of his body, by that elevating awareness that he’s letting me touch him and that he’s taking pleasure in my caress. My fingers wander upwards over his neck, until my blunt fingernails graze lightly at the hair of his undercut. He shudders so strongly that I immediately withdraw my hand in surprise.

Watching him for any other signs of distress in a moment of frozen shock, I find nothing, except for the brief goosebumps that form on his neck and jaw. Wondering whether I should ask before proceeding, he gives me a silent answer in bowing his head just slightly, as if silently giving me access and permission to scratch lightly at his short hair again. His content hum prompts me to keep going; I keep one hand pressing circles into the base of his neck, while I let the other one card through and under Levi’s longer strands to rub at his scalp. And Levi is completely melting; he becomes so warm and pliant, and I don’t think he’s aware of the way his now apparently very relaxed body sags, his shoulders hunching, and the way he leans forward a little. From across his shoulder, the movement lets me see more of his skin down the front of his loose T-shirt, sending heat to my cheeks. When I see his chest rise before a heavy exhale that ends on something close to a pleased and softest moan, I feel another kind of tension rise. Not underneath my fingers, but all around me, in the air I breathe, in my lungs. Maybe it’s the tension seeping out of Levi that’s becoming released. As if that even makes sense.

Some days ago, I probably would have been confused. I wouldn’t understand. But now I know; I love him, and I want to touch him; experience his proximity. I also still want to convince myself that he won’t hurt me… I just _need_ to know. The thick lump that suddenly forms again in my throat is hard to swallow as I debate my choices; I can use this perfect opportunity and attempt to initiate something, or I can stop right here in the safe zone and be happy with what I have already. My predictable nature leaves me only with one choice; I withdraw my hands.

And I wrap them lightly around Levi’s bare upper arms. I’m doing it. I’m taking the risk.

Marvelling at the contrast between his beautifully pale lean arms and my own darker skin and at how perfectly my splayed fingers fit around his surprisingly strong biceps, I hold my breath awaiting his reaction. The lack of it is my cue to continue. Starting slow and deliberate, I give gentle squeezes and rubs to his muscles, working his flesh until it’s warm, pliant and relaxed. Trailing down with just a feathery touch of my fingertips down to his forearms, I have no choice but to lean forward over him, slightly into the crook of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off his body into mine after I warmed it up with my touch. His breath is warm and deep, his lightly parted lips not far from my ear. Part of me wonders how he’s letting me do this, but another, bigger one, doesn’t want to dwell on it. As I keep alternating between tender strokes and gentle squeezing, I move yet lower to brush against his beautiful hands, his knuckles, his long fingers. And _that_ gets a reaction.

His trembling gasp stops my heart as I release a quiet shaky breath of my own. Only then do I realise how much tension _I’m_ under, enough to make my body snap. But somehow, it’s a good kind of tension, making my skin buzz with some bone-deep longing. And yet, Levi’s body makes a silent promise to take the strain away, and make the release from it taste even sweeter.

His response and the heat from his cheek only serve as an encouragement as I caress his hands, which apparently must be exceptionally sensitive. No wonder, since they must serve as his eyes. Throwing more and more of my caution to the wind with each passing second, I trail upwards with my hands, sneaking underneath his short sleeves just a little, unable to stop my smile at the sight of goosebumps on Levi’s arms. Being bold, I let one of my hands reach back down to push up his top just a little, and to brush my knuckles against his stomach. He gasps once more as he shivers. Ticklish. My chest tightens with how endearing the thought is.

When I finally work up the courage to do what I’ve been waiting so long to do, to press my lips to his neck, I feel like I’ve found home. My lungs breathe in his heat and his clean smell, and it’s as exhilarating as if I hadn’t breathed for months. The rush goes straight to my head, making it feel light. It’s a euphoria, and at the same time, my emotions are a calm sea. It’s everything, and it feels right. I itch to taste him. I don’t deny myself that, and delicately brush my tongue over his earlobe, just a little bit.

What I get in return is something between an exhale and a groan, followed by my name. ‘E-Eren.’ It is not much more than a breathless whisper. Never have I heard these four letters being spoken in such a way, with such… reverence. I want to hear it again.

But this isn’t just about me. ‘Levi. Just say one word and I’ll stop if you want.’ My words are quiet, spoken softly into his ear so as to not shatter the fragile moment.

I shift just slightly and look to his face, searching for any displeasures he might not want to voice. His eyes remain closed, his lips parted, and for a moment, he’s very still and so is my heart. Right now, nothing matters more than his body so close to mine, but I know I’d rather burn my hands than cause him displeasure with my affections.

Then he lifts one of his arms, easily finding my head, running has hand through my hair and pulling me closer. Relieved, I smile against his ear, tracing my tongue around the shell, making Levi’s body shiver. I allow both of my hands to roam across his stomach, his ribs, his chest, as I cover the nape of his neck with small kisses before settling into the crook of his neck once more, and sucking gently at his skin to my heart’s content. I want more.

Running one of my hands through his hair and keeping it there, grazing lightly with barely any pressure, I lean forward lightly more, Levi’s breath even closer to my ear. This time it’s the hair on _my_ neck that stand up at the intimate sound. My other hand wanders lower to stroke against one of his thighs, the soft sound of my skin against his jeans echoing in my ears. My body feels like it’s not fully under my own control as my hand moves to caress the man’s inner thigh. I watch, wide-eyed and transfixed, as his legs part just slightly, and I have to wonder whether he’s even aware of his body’s responses. Nevertheless, it’s an invitation that my hand takes, moves on its own accord and presses against the warmth of Levi’s crotch.

His reaction is immediate. A violent jolt sends his body jumping and I withdraw my hands immediately, as if burnt, just in time as he leans forward, hunching over. Away from me. ‘Wa-wait, Eren.’ His words are breathless, dazed; as if he just woke up from a trance.

Million thoughts run through my mind; _I fucked up. Too soon. He’s not actually gay. He’s got a partner that I just don’t know about. He’ll hate me now._ ‘I-I’m sorry!’

‘No, don’t- don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…’ He falls silent for a moment. ‘I-I don’t want to take advantage of you, make you do something you’ll regret…’ He voice is quiet, spoken to the floor.

But I have no idea what he’s saying. What does he mean? Did he not get the memo? Was he so out of it that he missed the part where I’m practically throwing myself at him? ‘W…What?’

‘If you continue, I. I might not be able to stop myself.’ Okay, so he’s _clearly_ not getting the memo.

‘Levi.’ I try to put in as much feeling and tenderness into his name as I can, because I really just need him to understand. Walking around the chair, there’s just enough space away from the desk for me to kneel in front of him. I want nothing more than to hold his face in my hands, brush my thumbs against his slightly reddened cheeks, but I don’t want to risk it now; I need to be careful. ‘I _don’t_ want you to stop yourself. Why do you _still_ insist on keeping me at a distance?’ Cold sweat beads up on my neck at the morbid thought, the very logical explanation. ‘Unless… You don’t want me to… touch you.’

‘Eren, _of course_ that’s not it. Just- You shouldn’t get involved with a cranky old invalid like me- not like that, you know?’ His self-depreciating words are like a physical blow, making my chest cave in, so I put my hands on his knees to ground myself. ‘Did you not like any of the guys when you met up with them? What- what about Armin? I know he’s single. Or maybe- maybe you’re more into girls? Annie might be single. She’s nice; calm, smart, strong. You liked them, didn’t you?’

I kneel there, listening to his, frankly, senseless babbling. As if even a deeper friendship with a ‘full citizen’ – as they call themselves, apparently – besides my owner would be possible for me. Even if it was, why would I want it instead of him? ‘I did. Armin is nice. So is Annie.’ The relief and the small smile on his face is laced with sadness. My heart gives a strange twitch at the sight, as if I’m subconsciously relieved that he might be unhappy about my _theoretical_ choice to have some relationship with someone else. God, what am I even thinking? Sighing quietly, I slowly start to rub his knees, hoping to ease and open him up to my touch again. ‘But I don’t want them. Not like _this._ ’ I don’t even know where my words are coming from, but I hope he understands.

There’s clearly an internal conflict going on within him, and it shows on his face to the point where he looks painfully indecisive and torn. ‘Eren, I don’t want you to feel like- like you owe me. Yes, I may have brought you out of that place and all, but. But it’s not like I want you to do anything like- like _this_ in return. Eren, you _know_ that.’

A smile tugs at my lips at his attempt to reason with me like that. I rub his calves. ‘I know that. And I’m not thinking that. I promise.’

Levi seems comforted by my answer, and yet frustrated. He continues in an almost pleading voice. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. Especially… after all you’ve been through.’

The sincerity in his words tears me apart, and yet it’s a reassurance that I crave. My emotions are a mess. ‘I know, Levi. I know you won’t.’ I feel like I’m trying to convince both of us here.  I take a deep breath, lifting my hands up to place them on his chest. ‘Please. Let me.’

He frowns, his lips opening and closing as if trying to form words without knowing what he actually wants to say. All that ends up escaping him is a slow, shaky exhale, and I watch his face relax just slightly. Taking it as a positive sign, I bring one hand back to his knee and with the smallest pressure, I encourage him to spread his legs just a little more so that I can fit in between them. Levi’s body complies as I shift closer on my knees, head underneath his chin and the other hand on his neck, while Levi’s own hand reaches to rest at the back of my head as well. His breath above me is strained as I return to my interrupted task of stroking his inner thighs. Ever so slowly, I inch closer, moving my hand further. When I reach his crotch once more he shivers slightly again, but doesn’t move away. I count that as a win. Expertly, I unbutton his jeans with one hand while still holding him close as he goes very still. I palm his slowly hardening member through his jeans, getting us both used to the feeling of touching so intimately. I think it’s primarily for my own sake anyway, to keep the steadily growing anxiety that starts to gnaw at my neck at bay. The comforting silence of his room makes our breaths seem loud in my ears, keeping me grounded and present in the moment, not letting my fears pull me under completely. Once I sense the man above me relax slightly once more, only then do I move my hand to undo his zipper.

Looking down, my stomach twists with both anticipation and apprehension at the sight of his now exposed black underwear. I _want_ to do this, against all my instincts and my past that hold me back.  Taking a steadying breath, I bring my palm back to massage his hot flesh. Slowly, he grows harder underneath my hand, just one layer of thin fabric separating our bodies; the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying. When his breath becomes a hiss and his underwear strains against his erection, my mouth goes dry. I lick my lips and swallow. I can do this. I _want_ to do this.

Levi’s upper body is a pliant putty under me as I remove my hand from his neck and push him with the slightest pressure, just using my fingertips so that he leans back in his chair for me to have better access to his crotch. My eyes widen as a sudden realisation dawns on me; the sudden realisation of what has been placed in my hands. The sudden realisation of _responsibility._ The feeling that… something profound is taking place. Yes, I have a responsibility to make him feel good; it’s my job as his slave – even if he doesn’t treat or see me as one. I want to do this job well. But it’s more than just that; it’s the first time we’re so close and, _God_ , obviously to me it’s so much more than just an obligation, because of what I feel for him. The weight of the moment makes my fingers tremble as I trace them over the fine hair underneath his navel. Licking my lips once more, I put an end to my stalling and pull down his underwear to expose his erection.

A gasp echoes in the quiet room above me but I don’t look up, too drawn in by the sight before me. To my slight surprise, perhaps, it doesn’t scare me – it puts me on edge for obvious reasons, sure; but I’m capable of still controlling it. _It’s Levi, and I want this; for once, I want this_. I focus on keeping my breathing even as I take his shaft in my hand, the length hot and heavy with blood. A large bead of clear precome slowly leaks out of the slit and trails down the pink swollen head. It makes my cheeks and insides flush with heat and I revel in the lack of repulsion at the sight of another man nude, before wiping the moisture with my thumb and using it as a lubricant to give the shaft a few strokes. Levi lets out a soft moan, and I find that – unlike all my previous experiences – the sound doesn’t make my skin crawl; it actually adds to the pleasant warmth building up in my body. This time I dare to look up, and it takes my own breath away.

Levi’s back is arched slightly as his head falls back over the back of the chair, putting his beautiful, lean, long throat under strain and on magnificent display. The bottom of his throat is glistening slightly with sweat, the moisture reflecting the computer monitor’s glow. His chest heaves with deep breaths, his arms gripping the edge of his seat tightly at his sides. _Restraining himself_. Gratitude swells within me and I feel bad for taking so long. I’m going to give him what his body needs.

Pushing my fears to the back of my mind and forcing my throat to relax, I stop wasting time and take the whole length into my mouth at once, until my nose brushes against his dark pubic hair and the zipper scratches at my chin.

‘A-ah, _God_ … E-Ere-’ His broken gasp only fuels my instincts, and I let them take over. I know how to quickly and efficiently bring a man to orgasm – I’m the expert at this. Swallowing him down till he hits the back of my throat, licking the underside, humming for the vibrations, sucking with all my life’s worth – it’s methodical, it’s impersonal, and it’s cold, but it feels good and it works. I know how to pull all the tricks. And so I do, until his shaft is a sloppy mess of saliva and precome and my mouth aches, filling the room with obscene slick noises. Levi lets out a continuous string of gasps and quiet whines, but a particularly loud moan makes me look up. ‘Eren- Eren, _please_.’ He’s slightly hunched over now; his face is scrunched up and his brow furrowed. I continue my actions, but this time keeping an eye on him, watching out of any clear sign that he’s feeling anything else besides pleasure. But then it all goes to hell.

It almost feels like slow motion; I see him moving his arm, his hand reaching towards my head. There are just mere seconds separating me from the moment when he’ll painfully grab my hair and pull my head and force me to hold him deep in my throat until I’m all out of air. My stomach surges to my chest, making me feel sick and betrayed, but most of all stupid that I thought he was different. They’re all the same. Men are all the same when there’s a warm body at their feet; they give in to their primal needs and disgusting desires without a single consideration for anything or anyone else. Why would Levi be different? I shift forward, desperately sucking him in and holding my breath, hoping to convince him that there’s no need for roughness; I’ll give him what he wants. At the same time, I want to pull back and take my chances with begging him to not hurt me. Tears well up in my eyes and I whimper pathetically and fearfully around him, knowing I’m only staving off the inevitable. I shut my eyes and feel a single tear slip as his hand finds my hair. I brace myself.

‘Eren. W-wait, stop.’

What?

I don’t understand. His hand finds my jaw and he… pulls me away? I’m too shocked to react and let myself be guided, until my mouth is off of him. I clear my throat and cough. ‘W-why? Was I… not good?’

‘What? Eren, no. It’s just. I don’t want you to give me that sort of performance, I mean-’ He sighs, his voice still thick with arousal, but he’s slowly regaining composure. ‘You’re treating me like one of those men there, aren’t you? I don’t want- I mean- God, I don’t even know what I’m saying, just- Come up here.’ Levi’s arms reach out to me until they find their place loosely around my shoulders and he makes a brief gesture as if to pull me up. ‘You seem… so awfully far away down there. Besides. Your knees are going to hurt.’

My heart clenches and my chest feels like it’s going to implode from shame. God, how could I think that he was _anything_ like them?

I let him help me stand, which is actually needed; my legs already feel wobbly, and the half-erection I got from pleasuring him – that didn’t subside yet fully after my stupid freakout – doesn’t make shifting position comfortable either. He brings his legs together so that I can straddle his lap. Bringing one of his hands from my shoulder to rest it on my cheek, he smiles that wonderful warm smile of his, making up for the loss of focus in his eyes. ‘Isn’t this better?’

How can he be real? I simply feel _too much_ , and can’t help a sniff. ‘I’m sorry.’

Levi’s smile disappears immediately. ‘For what? Eren- Are you crying? What’s wrong? Please, talk to me! What’s going on?’

‘N-no, I’m fine, I’m fine, I just-’ My words are hurried in an attempt to stop his apparent panic. ‘I just feel bad and guilty, because… I-I got scared when you put your hand on my head. Thought you- you’re going to hurt me, you know… Force me, like. Like the others always did. I’m- I’m sorry, I know you’re different, I…’

‘Oh, Eren…’ Levi’s expression is the epitome of pain and sadness. ‘Why are you apologising, it’s _my_ fault. I’m so sorry I scared you. But you know I’d never hurt you. Right?’

Now I do. I got the final confirmation that I so craved. I lean into his hand at my cheek, feeling my fear and tension dissipate. ‘I know.’

‘Do you want to stop?’

And how can I not love him when he’s so caring?

‘No. I want this.’ Aware that I almost completely ruined the mood, I try to bring it back and place my hands on his chest, moving them slowly in rhythm with his breathing. I’m not going to rush it this time; I’m going to savour the feeling of his body becoming warm underneath mine. Warm, heavy breaths tickle my skin as I take his shaft in my hand again, working him back once more to full hardness. I revel in the profound intimacy of the new position; our bodies and faces so close, close enough to share body heat.

My toes curl and my body shivers – but not from fear, for once – when lean fingers rub my thighs, slowly but surely making their way towards the waistband of my tracksuit trousers. They stop there. ‘May I?’

A simple ‘yeah’ seems like a ridiculous answer; completely insufficient and ineffective in expressing just how much I want him to touch me. And yet, that’s all that my brain and mouth are capable of producing. I watch his slender fingers slip under the fabric; one hand pulling it down, and the other wrapping itself around my hardening length. The shaky gasp he draws out of me with a few slow strokes echoes between our bodies. My mind if filled with white noise. It’s hard for me to catch up with the sensations; _God_ , for the first time, someone else’s touch brings pleasure instead of humiliation. The mere realisation of that makes my mind short-circuit.

I let him take my hand and guide it to both our shafts. Understanding what he wants me to do, I take a hold of both our lengths, and can’t hold back another groan as I feel his hot flesh against mine. Despite it being a little awkward and difficult at first, I find a steady pace of stroking, making both of our chests heave and our faces flush. Precome from both our erections works as perfect lubrication, once more filling the room with slick snapping noises; the sounds which I always hated and feared now make me groan louder, and my blood hotter. Heartbeat pulses in my ears. And yet, through the haze of intense pleasure, Levi’s bitten lip, furrowed brow, and turned away face don’t escape me, the feeling emanating from him somewhat familiar. Without stopping my movements, I take a gentle hold of the man’s chin so that he faces me; probably a useless gesture – it’s not like he’ll look me in the eye. ‘Levi, a-ah- What is it? Why are- ah… Why are you holding back?’ My words are nothing but soft gasps, whispered into the sacred space between us.

The pure unrestrained emotions filling his unseeing eyes in that moment steal any remaining air from my lungs. ‘Eren…’ I shiver; he sounds just as wrecked as he looks. ‘I- I shouldn’t be. Doing this. Ah, I- any of this. I don’t want to- a-ah… hurt you, or manipulate you. But, God, at the same time, I- I can’t let you go- Ah!’ His mouth hangs open as I continue my movements; a desperate attempt at replacing his distress with something that feels good. I watch the display in front of my eyes, enraptured by the storm of emotion, doubts, and pleasure that tears him apart. Terrifying, yet captivating, like a natural cataclysm, and I can’t tear my eyes away, but neither do I know how to make it stop. ‘I just- I just can’t let you go, you’ve… dragged me so far out of my o-own shell, you’ve changed me. A-ah, Eren, if- If you leave me now, I- I’ll _shatter_. Please-’

My mind is sluggish; I don’t really know whether he’s not making any sense, or if I’m just not understanding. How can I leave him? Not that I would ever want to. The only way I’ll be leaving here will be through his own decision; if he wants me here, then this is where I’ll be. Or does he mean the current moment? I wish I could understand the conflict going on inside him. Still, I can’t stand to see him so clearly torn and upset; speeding up my strokes to distract him from his internal struggles, I lean closer to him to whisper what I hope are comforting words to his ear. ‘Levi, I’m right here. I- _God,_ ah- I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay. I’m… I’m here.’

His soft moans become louder, more frequent, making heat grow more rapidly in my own gut. I barely register the movement of his head until I feel his hot breaths against my lips. Dense tension builds up between us as we take in each other’s air. There’s only one way I can think of to relieve it; only one thing I’m desperate for in this moment, but I don’t dare. And so my heart seems to stop completely when it is him who whispers the words which are on my mind. ‘Can I kiss you?’

Elation. Ecstasy.

These words can’t even come close to describing the light-headed feeling when I press my lips to Levi’s in a close-mouthed kiss in reply. My mind is so blissfully blank, apart from this one single sensation. It feels so right – just as when I kissed his neck, only infinitely better. It feels like I finally found what I was looking for, without even knowing that I was searching. I’ve never been kissed before; none of _them_ cared about such an intimately personal show of affection – at least one thing they didn’t ruin for me. I must be a terrible kisser, but somehow, I couldn’t care less; Levi guides me gently, prompting my lips to part with his tongue. I gasp into his mouth as our tongues meet; first with shy, quick touches, but soon the wet muscles share saliva and slide against each other with vigour, mine copying Levi’s movements. Never would have I suspected a kiss could feel this good, this erotic.

From then on, it doesn’t take long before each of our breaths end in a moan and my hand’s movements lose all finesse, becoming erratic and desperate; our tongues lose their rhythm. Levi grabs my shoulder tightly but not hard enough to hurt. ‘L-Levi, are- Are you c-close?’

He whines against my lips, trying to find my tongue once more with his. ‘Y-yes. Yes. _Yes_ , oh _God_ , E-Eren, don’t- don’t leave me don’t- ah… Nh- I won’t forgive you i-if you leave me, please, _please_ -’

The remaining coherent part of my mind weeps at his apparent phobia of being abandoned. I mouth at his jaw, moving to his ear, his groans now falling directly into mine. ‘I’m here. I’m with you.’ Speaking, and even thinking, becomes more and more difficult by the second; I’m not even sure if he can understand me through my heavy panting. I wrap my free hand around his neck, holding him as close as my moving hand will allow. Almost immediately, his own arms embrace me, one around my back and the other at the back of my neck. ‘I’ve got you, Levi. It’s all right. Y-you… You can let go.’

My current position doesn’t allow me to see his face which I slightly regret, but it’s made up for by the fact that I can _feel_ him when he reaches his completion. A strangled moan from deep inside his chest rings close in my ear, followed by a series of gasps as those of a man who’s been drowning. I feel his erection twitch in my palm while his hips jerk slightly, mostly restricted by my own body atop of his. The way he falls apart is almost like something sacred, to be revered; something that is a privilege to witness. Warm droplets spill on my hand, and that pushes me off the edge right after him. My own orgasm feels like a sudden punch to the gut that I haven’t expected, being too preoccupied with the shivering body underneath mine. All air leaves my lungs, my toes curl, and I hold onto Levi tighter to keep myself grounded, to keep myself in one piece, the sheer intensity of the pleasure making my blood rush. My own come mixes with Levi’s warm seed on my hand and I keep stroking our spent shafts as we both desperately try to catch our breath.

The outside world, the room; everything starts to exist once more, and suddenly our fast breathing seems overly loud. Cold air makes goosebumps rise on my back where Levi isn’t touching me, even though my shirt is on. The sweat drying on my forehead and arms makes me shiver in the chill of the room. Everything feels heavy, my head in particular, so I rest it on Levi’s shoulder for support. I’m exhausted, both physically and mentally – my mind is blank. With a heart rate still higher than normal, I listen to both our breaths trying to slow down. The heat starts to dissipate, even from the small safe space between our bodies. Our mixed come starts to dry uncomfortably on my hand. I lick my lips to try and bring more saliva back into my dried mouth. ‘Should I- Um, I’ll get us a tissue?’

I start to pull away, but Levi’s grip tightens once more, not letting me go. ‘No, no, no… Stay. Don’t go.’ He sounds exhausted, and somewhat far away. I want to reason with him, but the sound of his desperate begging to not be left alone, even when he was just at his peak fills my mind and I lean back into his body, continuing to hold him.

I don’t know how much time passes, but what I do know is that if we keep this up, I’ll end up falling asleep on him here. I try my luck once more, hoping he’s more coherent and recovered from his high. ‘Levi, uh. I’m heavy, your legs are going to be killing you. I’ll go get us tissues but, uh, I think we should shower, actually. It’s time for bed I think, anyway-’

He grumbles unhappily beside my ear. ‘ _Fiiine_.’ If I had more energy, I would have laughed that the man who’s so obsessed with cleanliness suddenly is so reluctant to even have a shower. This time he finally lets me pull away but stops me before I can get off of him, his hand falling from my hair to my cheek. ‘Eren-’ I freeze at his touch and the sombre tone of his voice. Yet some other kind of indecisiveness and conflict apparent on his face once more makes me frown. ‘Do you- Would you want to stay here? Tonight? No funny business, I promise you. Just- Just sleep.’

I sigh contentedly and smile. ‘Yeah, I… I’d like that.’ He smiles back, relaxing, his eyelids starting to drop. ‘I’ll just have a quick wash and I’ll be back in ten minutes, yeah?’

‘Yeah. Just-’ He pauses for a moment, as if trying to pick out his next words. ‘Just come back.’

‘I will.’

Hastily, I tuck my softened member back into my pants, trying to just use the one clean hand before finally standing up. My legs are wobbly but I do my best to still quickly dash to my room and grab my pyjamas before heading to the shower. The remaining brain power tells me I should be analysing every second of what just happened, as I stand under the warm water stream – but I can’t. I’m too tired to think, so I settle in for the calming sense of peace deep in my bones, deciding that it can’t be a bad thing. I’ll think about everything later; for now, all I want is to go to bed. _Levi’s_ bed. Once I’m clean and fresh in my pyjama shorts and T-shirt, I pass by the kitchen and decide last-minute to make us both some tea before sleep; I know for sure that my own dry throat could use some hydration. Few minutes later I enter Levi’s room with two mugs of black tea. The first thing I notice is the switched-on lamp on the nightstand at the bed side closer to the door. I smile sleepily to myself; the lamp is obviously useless to him. He did it for me.

‘Here, I made us tea. Do you want some?’ I extend one of the mugs towards Levi who’s sitting up under the covers on the side of the bed closer to the window, leaning back against the headboard, while I plop down on the other side. ‘I-It’s just in front of you, in a mug. The handle’s facing you.’ I murmur the last words, still feeling anxious whenever I have to make his disability so obvious. I just don’t want him to be hurt by it. Still, he reaches out his hand and I guide the mug into it, only letting go when I see he’s got a firm grip on it.

‘Thanks, Eren.’

I settle in against the headboard as well and we both sip at our blissfully hot beverage. We don’t talk, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable in the slightest; quite the opposite, actually. The soft stillness wraps us in something like a content cocoon. We finish our teas without a haste, and put the mugs on the nightstands, neither of us bothering to get up to put them away elsewhere. Kitchen seems too far away. I switch off the light.

‘Ready to sleep?’ To me, Levi sounds half asleep already.

‘Yeah.’

‘Just- punch me if I snore. Or steal the duvet, or whatever.’ He murmurs as we both settle in under the covers.

I laugh sleepily. ‘Okay. You too.’

We bid each other goodnight and I’m dozing off already. We both lay on our backs, and the last thing I register is a mop of still slightly damp hair against my shoulder before I drift off into deep, content sleep, feeling safer than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn with Feels ™ ? *puts it here and leaves awkwardly*   
> Okay so I know a lot of you actually liked the slow pace (I'm so happy, and thank you for all of your feedback btw ;u;!) so I hope you don't see this chapter as happening too early (+100k words in ^^').


	16. The Adoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWWrY7fO3S4 (Over The Ocean - I will be silent)

Honestly, I don’t remember ever sleeping so well. Of course, I’ve been sleeping like a baby ever since I started living here, which could only compare to the peaceful rest I could get at home. But this night transcended everything; not even like a baby – I slept like the dead. That delightful feeling when your bones feel so heavy, as if melting right through your body and sinking into the bed underneath you… Well, that certainly feels weird when I try to put a name on the sensation, but it’s a blissful one nonetheless. I’m in that heavenly state of being slightly, not even _half_ awake, but just conscious enough to be aware of and appreciate pleasant the stimuli that contribute to the refreshing, deep sleep; the cool, smooth sheets and their fresh, clean smell; the soft bed and fluffy pillow; the living, breathing body beside mine – the warmth, safety, and contentment that it brings. Hazily, as through a fog, I register a wide, sleepy smile spreading over my lips. I feel- I just feel so _happy_. Letting incoherent dreams swallow me up fully once more, I become obnoxious to the world, knowing that I _may,_ because I’m safe.

But good things don’t last, do they?

I don’t know how much time passed since I floated back into unconsciousness, but it felt like seconds before an insistent beeping tears up my happy, sleepy space. It takes me a moment to open my eyes, to actually comprehend what I’m seeing, and to gather my bearings. Ah, that’s right. It’s Levi’s room. As I look to my right, my chest almost bursts with the immense fondness it immediately fills up with.

Levi’s sleeping soundly on his side facing me, his hand underneath his face, squishing his cheek up just a little, making it look absolutely endearing. His dry lips are parted just slightly, as he takes in calm, deep breaths. I grin at the incredible bed head he’s sporting; fuzzy strands standing up in every direction, some of it falling into his closed eyes. I sigh. _How is it possible that I’m bed with such a beautiful, breath-taking man_?

The beeping persists, increasing in pitch. I groan softly in annoyance, trying to untangle myself from the duvet and blanket. ‘Wh…wuh? Uhh-?’ The messy mop of black hair whines sleepily and I turn to him once more. He hasn’t moved a muscle, apart from a frown forming on his face. He’s not even remotely awake and he’s frowning already.

Not really certain whether he’s talking in his sleep or waking up, I try a very quiet whisper for a greeting. ‘Morning, Levi.’

‘Guh… -en?’ He licks his lips to wet them. ‘Eren? Mhh. Wheh- where… you goin-?’

How can an adult man be so adorable is absolutely beyond me. ‘I, uh, forgot to turn off the alarm clock in my room, I-’ My own yawn interrupts my words. ‘-need to turn off. Before they all wake up. Neighbours. You know.’ My words are slurred, my body reluctantly dragging itself out of the bed.

‘Mmmm… Idiot.’ I smile, wondering whether he’s even aware of what he’s saying. ‘C’m back.’

‘Ye. Will do.’

Stumbling over my own feet and groaning, I make my way to my room, the alarm urging me on. Once there, I slam the clock with probably just a little more force than necessary; especially considering that it was a gift from Hanji. And that it was my own fault for not switching it off. It’s a sad fact of life that I feel more awake now, starting to feel delicate pangs of hunger – I really got used to eating regularly, over these months – but I keep my promise and step back into Levi’s room, hopping into bed and snuggling under the warm covers with delight. The man hasn’t moved an inch.

‘Nhh, wh-’ He sighs and I strain my ears, trying to decipher his sleepy mumbling. ‘Wyhn… took y’ s’long…’

I stifle a laugh to not actually wake him up fully. ‘Levi, I was gone for less than a minute.’

‘Nnnno.’

‘Yes.’

He gives an annoyed huff. God, he’s so out of it. My chest is caving in with such fondness that I can barely stand it. It’s so adorable, it’s just breaking all limits. Seeing him like this makes me want to close my eyes too, even if I won’t fall asleep now. ‘Wh- eh sh’d ge’ up.’

The mattress shakes slightly from my silent laughter. ‘Yeah. We should.’

Obviously, that’s the last thing that happens. As if to prove me how ridiculous his own idea was, I soon hear slow, heavy breathing, just short of snoring. I smile again, my cheeks hurting from it at this stage. But it also makes me wonder; Levi should be really getting out of bed around this time, but for now it seems as if he’s going to be here for another while. A little inkling of hope tickles at my heart, whispering sweet theories that he enjoys my company in his bed just as I enjoy his, and this is what makes him capable of sleeping so comfortably, deeply, and peacefully. It’s such a far-fetched thought, and yet it brings such warmth to my heart.

It’s probably just another ten minutes or so before I grow restless, fully awake, and unable to fall back asleep. I could toss and turn for the simple sake of being in bed, but I don’t want to wake Levi up. Quietly, I get up and tip-toe out of the room, closing the door slowly behind me. Pulling out some ingredients from the fridge, I start making miso soup for breakfast. It takes an honest-to-God fifty minutes for Levi to emerge from his room, showered and dressed. Shame to have to reheat the food, but at least the man got some good rest; no need to get up at the crack of dawn every single day, is there?

‘Morning, Leviii. Miso soup with vegetables today, that okay?’ I ask as I already pour our breakfast into small white bowls.

‘Smells really fucking good.’ He sighs happily in reply and takes his usual seat at the head of the table.

‘Spoon or chopsticks?’

‘Spoon. If you could.’ He takes a deep whiff of the lovely aroma as I set the food in front of him. I take out two spoons, setting one in front of him, and he immediately begins wolfing down the soup; I’m willing to bet he’s at least one third done before I even take the first sip.

‘So. You slept well?’ I can’t hide the grin from my face and it’s evident from my voice, but the memory of his sleepy, incoherent murmurs is just way too amusing.

‘Mhm, mhm.’ He hums in affirmation. ‘Haven’t slept so well in a long time… You sleep okay, too?’

‘Yeah. Really good, too.’

‘That’s good.’ Levi slows down eating, chewing, turning the spoon in his hand idly, before speaking with the most forced nonchalance. ‘So, uh- You slept in my room all night? You didn’t leave? I-I mean, hah, just wondering if you were really there in the morning or if I dreamt it, hah, I was only, like, ten percent awake there.’

I tilt my head, studying him attentively as he covers up the perhaps slightly odd question with a nervous laugh. Then I remember; his desperate pleading echoing dimly, like through murky waters. ‘ _If you leave me now, I’ll_ _shatter_ _. Please. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. I won’t forgive you if you leave me. Stay. Don’t go. Just… Just come back.’_

Some anxious feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I was there. I didn’t leave.’ He only smiles briefly in response, the expression not seeming all that joyful, actually. Slowly, he resumes eating. ‘Levi, um. Can I ask you something?’

‘Uh-oh. That sounds very… serious. But you just did.’

I groan but laugh a little. ‘Levi, this joke is so old.’

‘Well. I’m old, so I tell old jokes.’ His behaviour makes me frown. Why does it seem like he’s deliberately deflecting the conversation, and avoiding questions? ‘But, sure. You know you don’t need to ask me.’

I take a steadying breath, suddenly very nervous about how I’m actually going to go about putting it into words properly. ‘Okay, so, um- But first of all, it’s a bit of a personal question, so, if it’s _too_ personal or weird, just- Tell me to shut up and fuck off and I will, and we’ll pretend it never happened yeah?’

It’s his turn to frown. ‘I’m not going to tell you to fuck off. But go on.’

‘Okay. Right, so.’ Why am I even asking this? I should mind my own business. ‘Levi, do you- Do you feel… abandoned?’

The spoon freezes on the way to his mouth for a moment before he puts it down. His expression is blank, unreadable. I shouldn’t have asked that; but just before I’m about to back-track, to apologise, to tell him to drop it and forget it, he speaks up with a soft sigh. ‘Why, did I- I said something weird in my sleep, didn’t I?’

I lick my suddenly dry lips. ‘No, no. Um, last night, actually.’ My cheeks heat up at the memory of our shared intimacy. ‘You just seemed very, um, very worried that I’d… leave? And today in the morning, you did, too, and now you ask me this, I- I was just worried. _You_ seemed… worried…’ My words trail off to a mumble when I realise I’m not accomplishing anything besides making a fool out of myself. ‘I’m sorry. It’s, uh- a stupid question, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have asked weird things like that.’ I want to keep the frustration out of my voice, because it’s only directed at myself. Everything was fine, wasn’t it? We both had a good night’s sleep and were in good moods; the day seemed like it was starting really well, and then I pull shit like that. Even if there are some issues, I’m sure there’s a more delicate way to go around it than what I did just here.

‘You were worried…’ His smile is infinitely sad; I think a sob would seem more cheerful. God, where did the light-hearted mood suddenly go? If it wasn’t for my speak-first-act-later trait that’s been awakening in me again… ‘I suppose… you’re not wrong. I mean. I’ve never thought of them as some, you know, actual abandonment issues or whatever some shrink might call it. But huh, maybe that’s what it is. Now that I think about it, the thought of people leaving me behind- it does bring anxiety. Always did, I-’ He shakes his head and seems to snap out of his train of thought. ‘It’s not an interesting story or anything.’

My ears are on full alert, and I suddenly realise I might get more than I initially bargained for. ‘I’ll be happy to listen.’ I try my best to sound encouraging, then add quickly. ‘If you want to tell me, of course.’

Levi sighs yet again, visibly torn whether or not he should share his secrets. I wait patiently, giving him time, not wanting to push. But after worrying his bottom lip with his teeth a bit, he finally gives in. ‘I think… it started with my mother. She was an angel. Her name was Kuchel. She was… so beautiful. So stunning and strong. She was my absolute hero when I was a little kid. I loved her _so much_. I still love her.’ My chest tightens as I watch his face fill with emotion, his eyes cloud over with old memories, while the faintest, but a genuine smile forms on his lips. ‘But… she was very poor. She came from an extremely poor district, where unemployment was the norm. Children in rags filled the streets, desperate to find a coin or a piece of bread dropped by someone. Women would try and cook something filling from water and a few leaves alone. Most of the men who were there were unemployed drunks; those who had work would usually be somewhere else, coming back to their families on rare occasions.’ A sombre pause follows his words. I barely dare to breathe. ‘My mother wanted her family to have a better future. But she couldn’t do anything without money. So… she sacrificed herself. And she became a prostitute.’ He visibly swallows as he licks his lips again. ‘What _I_ am, is a product of my mother’s work. Or more of a side-effect. So say, Eren…’ He huffs a humourless laugh, his voice conveying a whole range of darkness and _pain;_ self-loathing, bitterness, anger, grief. ‘Do you hate me now? Do I disgust you?’

His words are like daggers. God, what have I done? What have I started? What have I _unleashed_? ‘L-Levi?’

‘In my veins runs blood of a man who just as well might have abused you. It’s not impossible that my father might have raped you when you were at the brothel. I’m a son of a rapist, the worst kind of scum that preys on the vulnerable.’

He needs to stop. I _need_ to make him _stop._ ‘Levi. Levi, calm down, please.’ Putting my hand over his on the table, I can only hope it offers comfort. ‘Of course I don’t. You don’t choose your parents. And I can only respect you more now, that you’ve come so far, despite having such a difficult start.’ My words seem to calm him down somewhat, but whether I convinced him; I’m not sure. ‘Tell me more about your mom?’

The apparently-warm thoughts of his mother ease him further. ‘She loved me. Despite what I was, what I reminded her of, every hour of the day… She loved me. Everything she did from then on was for us. For me. When I grew up enough to just understand how she hated her job, how those men hurt her… I always begged her to stop it, telling her we could run away, go somewhere else. I was a kid; I had no idea of the bullshit coming out of my mouth, obviously. While my mom; she was now doing the opposite. Working even more, so that she could provide for both of us now.’ Levi’s unseeing eyes turn dark. ‘She ended up contracting a disease. Affording medical care was impossible for us. So I was forced to simply sit and watch my mother die.’

I don’t even try to wipe the tears cascading down my cheeks for fear of making a noise. I only watch his empty face and listen to his hollow, pained voice while something vicious and agonising tears my heart apart. Just how much suffering has this man endured in his life?

‘I begged her to not go. To not leave me alone.’ I shut my eyes against a wave of unbearable pain when I hear his voice break just for a moment and see his lip tremble. He quickly regains his composure, keeping his voice levelled. ‘As stupid as it was… I couldn’t help but feel like she abandoned me. I was a kid, I didn’t understand this mess of pain and grief and anger I was feeling. So I just… felt alone.’ Absentmindedly, he swirls the spoon around in the now lukewarm soup. ‘It must have been a few days that I stayed in that room with her dead body. I didn’t know what to do; I was only five or so. I did realise that I’d die if I’d just stay there forever, but I remember I just didn’t want to abandon her. And that’s when my uncle found me.’ He pauses for a breath, for which I’m grateful. My mind is reeling from Levi’s agonising past, and although I managed to stop the tears, they’re still drying on my face, making me shiver. ‘He helped me wrap my mother’s decomposing body in bed sheets. Then he drove us to the seaside, and we released her body into the water. We didn’t have anywhere to bury her. Kenny, my uncle… he said that she’d be safe there, no one would ever touch her again. I was surprised, I remember that. Being used to dead people being buried in the ground. But I didn’t mind. It was somehow… Somehow more fitting for her. She loved the sea, always wanted to see it but never got to. And later, Kenny would still sometimes take me to those rocks now and again, and I’d talk to the water. To my mom’s soul still floating above the surface. Finally free and at peace.’

It’s ridiculous, how he manages to keep his voice calm, while my own face is a drenched mess of tears. I still try to keep it silent, not wanting to distract Levi or shatter this moment; wanting – and yet dreading – to hear more.

‘I’ve lived with Kenny, then. He wasn’t a father material; he even said so himself. He was a crude man, fairly rough around the edges. He had a drinking problem, so that a significant amount of the little money he had would be wasted on booze. But despite all that, he wasn’t a bad person.’ With my vision slowly becoming less blurry again, I watch him frown; as if he is trying to convince himself of his own words. ‘He sent me to school. He tried to teach me what he knew and what might be useful in life, but… Really, it wasn’t much. Mostly he taught me how to fight, how to stand up for myself against bullies. But one day, he told me that this won’t lead me on a good path, and that I’ll probably only end up a poor drunk with a dodgy criminal record like him. He told me that in this world, I need to do well at school, if I ever want to break away from the awful life my mother led and which I was born into. I had to gain knowledge, be better than everyone else, so that I’ll be more than an orphan and child of a prostitute. That evening, he sat me down, and together, we chose… my life, basically. I was only eight then, still in primary school, but he laid out a bunch of college brochures in front of me and asked me to pick something, anything. Just on a gut feeling. Something to strive towards. I had no idea what to pick, but, as you might guess now, physics stood out to me. Mainly because of the name; I had physical strength and skill, so I thought this would be something related.’ He huffs and shakes his head, seeming to be momentarily amused by the memory of his childhood naivety. ‘So that’s the path I went. I told my teachers that I want to study physics later on, and they guided me which subjects I needed to take. I hated it all at first, but soon enough I learned that hard work and good grades got me praise and approval from Kenny… and that’s something that my childhood self needed. So I gave it my best. I aced my exams, and finished primary school two years early. And… Oh. I’ve gone completely side-tracked. I, uh, must have bored you to death, huh? You’re so silent, I don’t know if you’re even breathing?’ Levi gives a brief, crooked half-smile; again, without any humour in it.

It takes me a moment to swallow the lump in my throat and trust my voice enough to speak quietly. ‘N-no. Plea- please. Keep going. I’m listening, Levi.’

‘So, uh…’ He scratches the back of his neck before continuing. ‘It was just after I started high school, that… that he just… He disappeared. I- I don’t know where he went, what happened to him. He just. Walked away. Moved on. Just… abandoned me.’ There’s a ringing in my ears upon hearing those shocking similarities between our lives; poverty, mother’s death, suddenly missing guardian… The man continues his painful tale. ‘I lived in an orphanage, but for a very short time. Still, apparently it was enough for most of the very few friends I managed to make at school to turn away from me. Abandon me. So, even though I wasn’t some cute chubby little infant, I wasn’t a problem child and never got into trouble, focused on my studies. So, a couple that just wanted the support money adopted me, even though they didn’t love me in the slightest. I didn’t care, and neither did they. They provided me with a roof over my head and food, and I provided them with additional government money. It was a good deal. And I had a goal, and I worked hard for it, while saving up money with a part-time job. Skipped another two years of high school, entered college very early. Moved out as soon as I was legally able to. I don’t even remember the names of that couple that took me in now. I rented a place of my own, finished my undergrad before my twenties. That’s how I became a professor at such a young age.’

Levi pauses again, drinking up the last bits of his soup. He seems fully calmed down now after the emotional turmoil brought about by the memories of his mother. I wonder whether he’ll talk more about his past, but I just simply wait.

He sighs once more before speaking again. ‘I clawed my way to the top. I knew my mother and Kenny would be proud. Somewhere fairly early along the way I genuinely fell in love with my field of work, too. I met Hanji, and we quickly became best friends. I could afford my own flat, and I wasn’t going hungry. I thought I was happy.’ His tone of voice and dropped shoulders suggest anything _but_ happiness. ‘But… I don’t know, I guess… The deeply-buried pain came crawling back up. The abandonment that I tried to run away from. I’ve never been a ‘people’s person’, or whatever they always want you to say at interviews to make yourself look good. I was comfortable alone. But as the years passed, I realised I was… lonely. Not just alone. My college degrees and certificates in glass frames wouldn’t embrace me back, would not give me warmth. I realised I chased after something satisfying, but not exactly… fulfilling? Satisfying, but… cold. I was lonely. And that feeling, it just- It creates such fertile land for- for depression. So when the accident happened…’ He takes a steadying breath, and I can only hope he won’t get too upset again. ‘I became immediately depressed. Suicidal, even. I was too scared to die, but also didn’t want to live. And… God, how ridiculous that sounds, I am- I’m so perfectly aware how stupid that sounds but, somewhere, on some subconscious level I felt abandoned by… by everyone, by the whole world, when I lost my sight. They all left me behind in this darkness, all alone again. And apart from that, most of my research colleagues don’t keep in touch since the accident. They’ve left me. I know I still have Hanji, I know. But… Sometimes these thoughts haunt me, that she’s doing this just because she pities me. Maybe when she helps me with groceries, she wears a shirt that says something like, _I don’t know this dumb blind fuck_.’

‘L-Levi!’ I know I have to stop him before he goes further on this self-depreciating rampage. ‘You _must_ know that this is absolutely untrue and ridiculous.’

‘I know. I know.’ He laughs softly to himself, and I breathe out in relief when I finally see his eyes warming up; some positive emotions finally showing on his face. ‘But when you’re stuck in infinite darkness like this and can’t see the world around you, you sometimes feel you can’t trust anything. Even the things you thought you knew.’ I let his words sink in, without really knowing what to say in return; or whether I even should. So a heavy and somewhat awkward silence settles in between us, before Levi breaks it. ‘So. To answer your question; yeah. I do feel abandoned a bit sometimes.’ Despite the sad essence of his words, his laughter is genuine. ‘You probably weren’t looking for that kind of long-winded sappy, lame, tragic story for an answer, huh?’

This time it’s my turn to sigh. ‘No, that wasn’t what I was expecting. But… I’m happy I got it. I’m happy that you trust me enough to tell me about your life. I- Thank you for that, Levi.’

My heartfelt and genuine gratitude seems to take him aback; in turn now, _this_ was not an answer _he_ was expecting. ‘Oh. Um. Thank you, too. For listening, and uh- letting me talk for hours like that.’

‘Anytime.’ I smile. ‘And, if it’s any comfort… I won’t abandon you, Levi. I’m not leaving here, unless you’ll want me to.’ There’s a brief, sharp pain in my chest at the remaining possibility that he will, indeed, want to one day get rid of me, but his soft expression melts my worries away for now.

‘It does bring comfort. Thank you, Eren.’

Silence falls for just a moment while I shovel down the rest of my cold soup, my head spinning from the sheer amount of the painful information just dumped upon me. How is it possible that he suffered so much, and yet the cruelty of the world didn’t break him, didn’t harden his wounded heart? I’ve wept endlessly before about his loneliness, his depression, his disability; completely oblivious to the fact that this small inconspicuous man was carrying even more burdens behind his indifferent façade. Levi taps his spoon gently around his bowl, listening to the pitch of sound and possible splashing; something I’ve learned as his way of gauging out how much soup is left. I glance over and see his empty bowl. ‘Tea?’

‘That would be great, Eren. My mouth is so dried out after all this talking. And I need to take the medicine. But finish your soup, first.’

Oh. The meds. I gulp the last few sips quickly before setting our bowls in the sink and setting the kettle on. I walk over to the cupboard and fish out two white tablets from the container; it’s something that Levi started trusting me with a couple of weeks ago. Although, maybe it wasn’t entirely about trust; maybe it was shame. It seemed as if he always took the pills whenever I wasn’t looking; as if he was ashamed of taking them. But with time, as we both kept opening up, that barrier too fell down, and he allowed me to bring him his medicine with his morning tea, which I was more than happy to do.

But this time, when I place the two small capsules in Levi’s waiting palm, something is different. He doesn’t put them down to wait for tea; he rolls them between his fingers, thinking, as if he’s handling them for the first time. I watch him with curiosity, as he takes one of the pills in his right hand and hands it back to me.

‘Can you… put this one back?’

‘I don’t… I mean, yeah, okay, but why?’

He bites his bottom lip. ‘I want to try taking just one pill now.’

That’s got my eyes widening like saucers. Some ray of hope pulls at my heart, that the man I love is feeling better, but I don’t want to get too happy too early. ‘But- Levi, is this- is this safe?’

‘Yeah. I talked with my doctor a few days ago on the phone. Said that when I feel strong enough, I can give lowering my dose a try. I think… I think I feel strong enough to try, now.’

I can’t keep the hope and joy down, soaring like bright, warm light through my chest, making me smile from ear to ear. ‘Cherry tea?’

He smiles back; a full, genuine, tooth-y smile. ‘Cherry tea.’

 

 

A phone call to Hanji significantly dampens my excitement over Levi’s sudden rush of strength and courage. As it turns out, Levi has tried that before; he lowered his dose just a couple of months before my appearance – an endeavour that landed him in the ER. My eyes widen at the terrible words and the possibility of something so awful happening again. Hanji is clearly sceptical of the man’s choice, but sensing my rising panic, she fills me in on the details.

‘He was in no way fit back then to do such a thing. It was really one of his worst times, but the hated the pills so much. Hated himself for being so dependent on them. His doctor disapproved, but Levi would not listen.’

I allow myself to relax somewhat; this time is different. Levi has been doing quite well; he didn’t have any significant depressive episodes for a good while, probably a few weeks. The doctor said he can give it a try. It will definitely be better this time, won’t it? To my relief, the woman shares my opinions. She ends the call with final instructions to keep a particularly close eye on the man, be careful with him, and to call Hanji immediately once I notice something suspicious.

That same evening greets Levi and I with awkward silence during supper. It’s not that something is wrong with his mood; it’s probably too early for any real change to take place so suddenly. No; my current problem is this night’s sleeping arrangement. Should I go and sleep in my own room as usual? Or did last night bring about some sort of change, and maybe, just maybe, I could sleep with Levi once more? What does he _expect_ me to do? Is he picking up on the elephant in the room or is there a simple and obvious answer to him? I’m probably over-thinking it, winding myself up. As usual, really.

But then, he just asks me; as simple as that. Do I want to sleep in his room again? I momentarily want to laugh at myself; obviously, in Jäger zone, worrying and fretting and over-thinking is a way more logical approach to handling that sort of situation than just _asking_ like a normal person. The answer, however, comes much more easily. It still comes out sounding like a shy request, but his happy expression at my preference to sleep in his bed rather than my own encourages me to the point where I lean forward for a quick peck to his cheek, before gathering up our plates, setting them in the sink, and dashing to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for sleep. Just before I close the door after myself, I catch Levi’s flaming pink cheeks as he still sits at the table. He doesn’t seem annoyed; I count that as a massive victory. I hadn’t really planned it nor thought it through; it was a reckless move, spurred on by some half-logic that we’ve done much more than that the previous night. And yet, he blushes at something so innocent. Whenever I think he can’t get any more endearing, he proves me wrong and makes my heart quake with overwhelming affection. This is definitely one of those times.

The ever-present, residual fear makes me anxious once I lay beside Levi in his bed, telling me I should have cleaned myself more _thoroughly_ before coming here. But it quietens quickly once Levi pulls the covers around us and snuggles into his pillow adorably. After bidding each other a good night and turning for a bit, trying to find a comfortable position, we both try to fall asleep for a good rest once again.

It’s not a good night. At all. Levi’s tossing and turning turns out to be something more than just trying to settle in under covers. It just doesn’t stop. Initially, I don’t think too much of it, mind already hazy and sluggish with approaching sleep. But when the rustling sheets and annoyed huffs wake me from dozing off for what must be third or fourth time, I know something is wrong. While I have to put significant effort into even opening my eyes, Levi is wide awake. His chest is heaving, the heat radiating off of his body stronger than it was last night. His restlessness is starting to worry me.

‘L-Levi?’ I test out a whisper, quietly, tentatively. ‘Are you okay?’

He huffs tiredly, the noise loud in the quiet dark bedroom. ‘I woke you up, didn’t I? Shit, I’m sorry. Just… Can’t sleep.’

‘No, no, no. It’s- it’s okay, I wasn’t really sleeping. Um… do you think it’s because-’

‘Of the meds. Yeah. Such bullshit.’

‘Oh.’ I don’t really know what to say. How can I even help him fall asleep? ‘Do you want me to, uh, maybe crack the window open a bit, let some cool air in?’

‘Noo… It’s chilly enough anyway.’

‘Then, um, should I get you an extra blanket?’

‘No, I’ll… I’ll be too warm, then.’ In the darkness, I can briefly see him smile, though his voice is bitter. ‘Sorry. Being so difficult.’

‘Please don’t apologize. I understand.’

He only gives me a sad hum in reply. It’s not long before Levi apologetically asks me to go back to my own room, not wanting to keep me up all night. I have kind of expected that. Nothing convinces the man that I don’t mind, that perhaps I should stay in case he needs something. He doesn’t give up, and while he thanks me for my patience, he still asks me to leave; for his _own_ sake, because of his own subconscious anxiety that he’s still making me lose out on sleep. And I can’t argue with that. If that’s what he wants, then that’s what I’ll do; there aren’t many things I can give him or do for him, so how can I not fulfil this simple request? It is with a heavy heart that I return to my room. I don’t sleep much anyway, leaving my door open and straining my ears for any distressed or worrying sounds coming from the other bedroom. I’m relieved to find nothing too much out of the ordinary, and happily drift off for a short while once the tossing and bed creaking ceases.

Facing the new day has me on edge; I expect the world to fall apart, or at least for Levi to behave so strangely that I’m scared both for him and _of_ him again. The situation turns out to be anything but that; breakfast happens as normal, pretty much at the same time as usual; I count it as a small victory that the man doesn’t actually refuse to eat – at least not yet. He’s not very talkative, but then again, he usually never is, especially in the morning. However, I can’t deny or ignore his tired eyes, or the darker-than-usual bags under them; not surprising at all since I’m assuming he only managed to fall asleep some time around the morning. I’m torn between asking him how he feels, and not wanting to nag and annoy him with questions. Quite obviously, I can’t help my curiosity and my worry, and go for the former option, speaking quietly while setting his food and the single pill in front of him. I feel my muscles tense, as if readying myself for a snappy remark, a growl of annoyance.

His calm, small smile and soft words make me melt. ‘Yeah. I’m good, thanks. Just tired a bit. You should rest more today. I didn’t let you sleep last night…’

‘Okay, okay.’ Obviously not; that’s the last thing I’ll do. Being there for him, all hours of the day, in case he needs something; it’s the least I can do.

‘And, uh, Eren… Just in advance, I- I apologize. For anything strange that I might say over the next couple of days, I- Of course it’s not an excuse. The meds aren’t an excuse. But I just… I’m not a strong man, and sometimes these things just- they take the better of me.’ He pokes at the fried onions with his fork, wounding my heart with his words. ‘But I promise on, on everything, that I’ll do my best. You know that the last thing I want to do is… is to hurt you. But at the same time, don’t take any shit from me, yeah? If I start being a bigger ass than usual, just. Just talk some sense into me, alright?’

I pull his hand between mine, tentatively bringing it to my lips to lay the gentlest of kisses on his knuckles. Not getting anything negative in response – just a minute shiver – I try to reassure him of his strength and worth. ‘Levi, you _are_ strong. Can you not see it? You took such a big step, and we’re all cheering for you; Hanji, Moblit, me. You’ll get through it. _We’ll_ get through it, together. I’ll always be here, remember? As long as you want me to be, I’ll be with you.’

He turns his head away before wiping at his eyes with his free hand. _Oh_. Pulling him in for an awkward hug over the edge of the table, I feel the little drops clinging to the skin of my neck. I shush him softly, hoping to provide some comfort by rubbing his back gently and stroking his hair. His words are so quiet and so muffled that I barely catch them. But they’re there. ‘Thank you. For being here. For _everything_.’

 

 

Levi spends most of the next few days alternatively napping and working for short periods at a time while still sticking to his lowered dose. I try to keep my worry in check whenever I find him curled up and passed out on the couch and in clear need of a blanket, since despite taking naps is very much _not_ a Levi thing to do, nothing too extreme happens besides him being subdued during the day and still restless during the nights. He still eats, still gets out of bed every day, and there are no severe depressive episodes in sight. Hanji herself agrees that these are all fantastic signs, and that he’s already doing so much better than the last time he’s tried this; so I let my hopes fly high. I still constantly watch him like a hawk, yet at the same time mindful of his personal space; the last thing I want to do is to bother him with annoying over-protectiveness. Besides, as much as it pains me, I know I can’t battle those inner demons _for_ him; he has to do it himself. The best I can do is to be there for him, and always support him; give him whatever he needs, keep him company, keep him occupied.

How strange; not so long ago, those roles were completely reversed. Just how far have I come? How far did _he help me_ get that now I’m strong enough for the both of us?

There is no end to my joy when, by mid-February, Levi offers me to sleep in his bed again. My heart grows twice its size from sheer happiness when I see him fall asleep quickly, his chest rising and falling calmly with steady, relaxed breaths. He’s sleeping less and less during the day, returning to his usual self slowly, but surely.

 

 

‘So will you tell me what you’re trying to show me?’ Levi sighs with impatience as I start up the computer, passing him the earphones.

‘It’s, um… It’s just some stories. Accounts, by different people. Like- Ah, you’ll just hear in a minute, okay?’

He only gives me another sigh, settling into his chair with the earphones in. I open up the few websites that I’ve bookmarked, and without much further thought in fear of chickening out, I switch on the text-to-speech function, watching the words being highlighted on the screen while the computer reads them for Levi. Every now and again, I steal a glimpse of the man with the corner of my eye, trying to gauge out his reaction to what he’s hearing. His reaction to the wonderful stories of disabled scientists; paralysed physicists, blind programmers, deaf biology lecturers, radiographers with missing limbs… The tales of suffering, recovery, and hope continue, with barely any breaks as I quickly switch between the browser tabs once one is finished. But Levi doesn’t say anything. His face is unreadable, his eyes reflecting the monitor’s glow in the evening mid-darkness.

The man remains still and quiet after the last story comes to an end. After a while, I make an attempt to break the heavy silence. ‘Levi? What… What do you think?’

He answers my question with one of his own. ‘Why did you show me these?’ His tone of voice is somewhat… distant. Not really helpful in helping me gauge out his emotions.

I take a deep breath, hoping to phrase my intentions well. ‘I- Well, I thought that maybe you could… That these would help you realise that you- you don’t have to quit doing what you love. I know how much you don’t like those- this current job. How demeaning you must find it. Being stuck with it, after fighting so hard and coming so far. These people… they’ve lost so much, too. Just like you.’ I hate the way my voice starts to tremble, forcing me to pause for a moment to regain control of myself. ‘Perhaps you could- you could try going back to the university. Get in touch with them. Discuss your options. Start small, and see how you do. Try and… be happy again.’

When I look back to his face, his expression leaves me breathless. I doubt it changed much, but perhaps it’s the months of studying his face with such care that I can pick up on the barely visible transition from indifference to something much more hopeful in his widened eyes. He plucks the earphones out and sets them aside, his movements slow, as if he’s in deep thought. ‘You think… No. I- I can’t imagine… pulling this off.’

Hastily, I take his hand between mine, before that tiny flicker of hope disappears from his heart. ‘You could. You _can_. I know you can. You’ve been through so much more than just the accident. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know.’ I press my lips to his beautiful slender fingers in a gentle kiss, desperate to make him see himself in the same light as I see him. ‘If there was only one person in the whole world who could pull this off, it would be you.’

He slips out his hand from my hold only to pull me close to him, again. ‘I’ll… think about it. I will. I just need to, uh. Process this. But thank you, Eren. Yet again.’ I snuggle happily into his side, feeling accomplished and optimistic about Levi’s future.

A soft kiss is placed on my forehead making me smile in bliss. It’s still beyond me, how it’s possible for me to be in such a good place. Thoughts begin to swarm, about where I could have been, but I want to chase them away, so I tilt my head and gently take a hold of the back of Levi’s neck, keeping his head in place before he leans back. The elating tranquillity from several days back returns when our lips touch in the sweetest of kisses. Warmth spreads though me, and my body _wants_ him, and so does my mind. I try to coax his tongue out of his mouth with my own, but he’s reluctant. Almost as if he’s holding himself back. _Again_.

Putting my own growing desire aside for a moment, I settle for pressing my forehead to his, speaking quietly against his lips. ‘Levi, you know when we… when we touched, the last time?’ His affirming hum prompts me to continue. ‘Do you think that, um, maybe we could do that again? Maybe we could… go further this time?’ I hold my breath, feeling awkwardly self-conscious and wishing I was capable of more _suave_ methods of seduction than this pitiful attempt.

‘No.’

I jerk back, as if slapped. My peaceful bubble is burst, and everything feels cold all of a sudden. Of course, I was prepared for rejection. I was. Absolutely. Just maybe… not so directly? ‘O-oh. S-sorry. You- you d-didn’t like it, d-did you…’

His sigh is one of exasperation. ‘Of course I did. It’s not like that at all, you know it.’ Do I? ‘It’s just- Eren-’ Apparently, he’s having genuine trouble finding the right words. ‘It’s not right, and we shouldn’t.’ Oh, there he goes again. ‘I mean- you’re not even of age.’

What? He said- what?

‘What?’ Being so flabbergasted, my mind is absolutely incapable of coming up with any other response.

‘I said, you’re not eighteen yet.’

He… He actually said that. ‘L... Levi. I’ve- You do realise that I’ve been used for sex since-’

‘You’re not here to be _used for sex,_ Eren.’ He snaps, his voice taking on a sharp, almost dangerous tone. Ah. Bad choice of words.

‘Sorry. Phrased it wrong. What I mean is that, uh, I don’t have that youthful, um, innocence, or whatever it is that you’re trying to protect. I appreciate it, I do. And thank you for that. For taking your time with me, always. But, even if you want to look at it from an age perspective, I’m literally a month away from being of age. Besides, in most countries, age of consent is below eighteen, so-’

‘ _How_ do _you_ even know that?’

‘Uh, I might have researched that. Just out of curiosity.’ My sheepish huff seems to somewhat lighten the suddenly-heavy atmosphere. Truth is, I was just really curious about whether it’s legal, even in this fucked up reality, to keep children below ten years as sex slaves – and of course it is – and just one search led to the next.

The matter still doesn’t come easy to him, and he sighs yet again. ‘Do you even remember how scared, how traumatised you were for the first weeks here?’ As if I could ever forget. ‘I don’t want to trigger something, _anything_ , that would make you go back to that mental space. I never want to feel or hear you so terrified, _ever_.’ He winces, as if the memory hurts him.

I lean back into his neck, feeling more at ease after finding out what the issue is and that maybe we can talk this out. ‘I’ll never be back in that dark place again. You don’t have to worry.’ He doesn’t reply, apparently not entirely convinced. ‘Well, then… how about I make us something nice to eat, and maybe we could, um, have a little wine, that Mr. Arlert brought for you? We could both loosen up a little-’

I regret my words as soon as I feel Levi go rigid. ‘ _Eren J_ _äger_ , my _God_. What sort of an idea is this?’ It’s hard to suppress a groan. What’s wrong with _this_ now? Why is it so hard to get him into bed, even if he said he _does_ want it? ‘Alcohol and sex never mix; that’s one of life’s basic rules.’

‘Why?’ I can only stare at him in disbelief; he just says the weirdest things. A significant part of my abusers was under the influence of alcohol or drugs. If they were coherent enough to pay and follow the rules, Keith would let them in. He’d be especially lenient if they were loyal clients.

‘It affects your judgement. You might get yourself into a situation you don’t want to, which you’ll later regret. You might not be in the right mindset to refuse something you might not normally do, or, on the other hand, not be sober enough to pay sufficient attention to your partner’s possible discomfort.’ This makes no solid sense to me, since neither of us would want to hurt each other, right? ‘That’s just in general. But it’s a no-go. Don’t ever do this, for your own safety.’ I frown; he makes it sound as if I intend to be intimate with anyone besides himself.

I’m slowly running out of options, but I don’t give up. Placing feather-like kisses on his neck, I keep trying. ‘Then how about…’ I lean up to his ear, licking the lobe before continuing in breathy whispers. ‘How about we get on the bed, just kiss and touch a little, and see where it takes us?’

What I get in response is a full-body shiver and a gasp, sounding as if Levi himself was surprised at his reaction. ‘Yeah, that’s…’ This time it’s him who tilts his head to find my lips with his own. ‘That’s a much better idea.’

I can’t help but smile with unrestrained joy against his mouth and Levi huffs a small laugh at his failing attempts to kiss me like that. We finally stand up, still joined at the lips and I make more effort to reciprocate his affections. The man lets me guide him away from the desk, and his willingness, his warmth, and his kisses make my bones thrum with anticipation of what’s to come, forcing me to put conscious effort into not _sprinting_ towards the bed. Instead, I walk us slowly until Levi feels the mattress against the back of his knees. I let him sit down and settle, reach his arm out to test how far he is from the headboard to his left side, before moving to straddle his thighs. Seeing as he doesn’t protest, I take his face between my hands to kiss him properly. It’s still somewhat difficult to not smile at his sudden eagerness to kiss, and to not marvel and be overwhelmed by my ability and my permission to kiss him in return. It’s infinitely tender; I wish I could almost say it was _loving,_ as our tongues and lips dance, making quiet sounds in the silent room. We don’t rush; there seems to be some unspoken mutual understanding between us that there is no need to – we have the whole night ahead of us, and the following day. And the day after. And the day after that. We have time. I’m here, and so is he; and neither of us is leaving. We part for a breath, but not because we need to; not because all air is gone from our lungs from desperate kissing. We part for a close embrace, to bask in each other’s closeness and to feel our hearts beat near one another.

Levi’s hands caress my arms idly when he speaks, his hushed voice still seemingly loud in the quiet stillness of that little haven we’ve created. ‘Eren? Can I…’

He trails off and I nuzzle at the side of his face, following it with small pecks to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. ‘Hmm?’ I want him to say what he wants; I’ll give him anything as long as I’ll be able.

‘Can I _see_ you?’

Freezing, I stop the trail of kisses on his face, eyes wide. _See_ me? My brain tries to catch up with his request. It takes me what seems like forever to register his hands no longer touching my shoulders, but hovering close to my face. Waiting. And it is only then that I understand. And why is he even asking me this, really? In reply, I take his hands in mine, pressing my lips chastely to one of his palms, before guiding them both to rest on my face. They feel so wonderfully chilly against my blushing skin, at the same time holding me in place so securely. After a final glance at Levi’s now very focused expression, I let my eyes fall closed, allowing the man to see me in his own way. The only way he can.

While his fingertips slowly explore and map every inch of my face, I try to still my quivering heart; try to not be overwhelmed by the sudden realisation that this man has given me so much and has taken me to his bed without too much of an idea about my appearance. He hasn’t done all of this because I had a ‘pretty whore face’, or ‘lips made to suck men off’, as Keith and his customers always told me. The apparently good looks were the one thing I always had going for me; it kept me useful, kept me profitable, and thus, kept me alive. It was the one and only thing that was valued about me. And yet, without access to that, for whatever reason, Levi still finds me at least acceptable. How is any of this possible?

‘What’s your skin like? Are you pale, like me?’ Levi breaks the charged silence and my train of thought while rubbing small circles over my jaw. ‘Freckles?’

It takes me a moment to find my voice again. I open my eyes. ‘No, I’m a bit more tan. And no freckles.’

He must feel me smile, because he quickly moves his hands to feel around my mouth. ‘You must have a lovely smile.’ It’s both like a caress and a punch to my heart; his sweet compliment making my insides warm yet leaving me aching at his underlying grief, his inability to verify his assumption with his own two eyes. But before I have time to dwell on it too much, he starts to run his fingers through my hair. ‘What’s your hair colour?’

‘Brown. Just a really lame brown.’

He laughs lightly at my choice of words. I close my eyes again, expecting his next question and movement, and soon enough, his fingertips ghost delicately over my eyelids and lashes. ‘And your eyes. What are your eyes like?’

‘Green. With like, spots of yellow, or brown, here and there? They’re a bit weird. But mostly green; _emerald_ green, my mother used to say.’

When his hands go still atop my cheeks for a while, I open my eyes, ending up staring directly into Levi’s wide ones as if my answer shocked him. Something akin to sudden realisation makes them light up. ‘ _Emerald_ _green_. Hanji. She knew… She-’

He starts mumbling something, not really finishing any sentence, and not really making any sense to me. And what does Hanji have to do with all this? I frown in confusion but remain silent, intending on waiting out the strange scene. That is until his hands fly to my collar, his fingers slipping under the leather. He takes me completely by surprise, making me gasp at the sudden attention to the symbol of his ownership over me, and momentarily throwing me into a completely different headspace. Bowing my head is involuntary. Instinctual. But what disgusts me is the word ‘master’ on the tip of my tongue, causing all my insides to twist sickly despite all logic. _This isn’t who he is. This isn’t what we are. Is it?_

‘Take it off.’ He speaks in a breathy, hasty voice. He tugs. ‘Take the collar off.’ I don’t understand. What is he saying? Why does he want me to take it off? Why should I take off the thing that makes me his?

Oh.

_He doesn’t want you. You’re no longer his. He’s throwing you away._

But then why was he kissing me just a moment ago? ‘I… I don’t understand.’ I cringe at how teary and weak my voice is.

_He doesn’t want you._

‘I don’t want…’ He huffs in frustration, bringing his forehead to mine, hands still latched to the leather strip with soft green lining. ‘I don’t want you to _ever_ wear this thing again. Not here. Not in this place.’ He reaches around my neck to unbuckle the collar, since I’m not making a move to do so on my own.  ‘Not in our home.’

My shaky breath – that sounds dangerously close to a whine – echoes in the room as the collar finally comes loose, and Levi drops it to the floor with a soft thud. Levi’s own warm breath tickles my now uncovered and sensitive skin. I feel naked and utterly exposed; laid bare in front of him. And yet… I feel safe.

_He’s setting you free._

‘Just promise. You have to promise me.’ He whispers, his lips still so close to my own. ‘You have to remember. To always wear it outside.’

I nod my head vigorously, as if he could even see that. ‘Yes.’

‘To always put it on before we leave. You _have_ to. No one can know.’

His fingers twitch with some kind of anticipation at the sides of my face, his voice growing with desperation, just like mine – until it’s nothing more than rapid gasping; _there is no collar on my neck_ , and it seems as if there’s too much air in my lungs. After so long, I can breathe deeply again. ‘Yes, yes. I will.’ Something is building up in my body, something powerful; something that will tear me apart, drive me insane, or leave me in tears if it keeps growing. ‘I- I promise.’

‘But not here.’

‘Not here. Levi-’

His mouth presses into mine before I can even decide what I want to say. The previous calmness is gone without a trace; this kiss is urgent, desperate. There is no finesse, no rhythm. What’s there though, is the almost painful bliss of that _something,_ of that tension, seeping out of my body with each passing moment, with each slide of my tongue against his. Hands grip, _claw_ at shoulders, chests press into each other with force. We don’t stop until we’ve both had our fill and we’re gasping for air; our lungs aching, and our lips swollen. Cradling each other’s faces, we slowly come down from our sudden high, catching our breath. Once I get my own heartbeat under reasonable control, I kiss him again – with gentleness once more – still only half-comprehending how I’m allowed to have such privileges. We hold each other close, and the embrace feels just as – if not more – intimate as the seemingly endless kissing. I revel in it; his arms so solid, so _real,_ and so safe around my body, keeping me from shattering from the intensity of my emotions.

I gasp into Levi’s mouth when his cold hands slip underneath my shirt, splaying over the heated skin of my back and bunching up the fabric. ‘Eren.’ His voice is practically a hum against my own mouth. ‘Can I take this off?’

‘Yeah. Yeah.’ He’s tugging the T-shirt up in an instant and I wiggle out of it, feeling the static messing up my hair after I tug the clothing over my head. I falter for a moment, not sure if I’d tick Levi off by dropping clothes to the floor, so I ball it up and throw it onto the armchair by the window, on the other side of the bed.

‘Score?’ He smirks at me.

I can’t help but grin. ‘Bullseye.’ Starting to slowly unbutton his adorable grey cardigan, I ask for permission too. ‘Can we take these off as well?’

Levi licks his lips and nods in reply, and helps me slowly undress him from the thin woollen sweater and a white T-shirt. I don’t dare to just throw his clothes – especially the cardigan; it’s just too pretty – so I just set them down on the nightstand. I don’t have much time to admire his lean, toned chest from up so close for the first time; he leans forward and his mouth is on my collar bones in an instant, sucking and licking sweetly, while his hands explore the bare skin of my arms, stomach, and chest. The spark of anxiety is only brief; gone almost as soon as it appeared. There is no pulling, no twisting, no bruising grip, and no scraping nails; Levi’s touch remains a fond caress, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the time I need to get used to it. The heat underneath my skin grows, and soon the only thing I can do is breathe shakily and hold onto him, submitting to the tenderness which I’ve never experienced before.

He puts his cheek in the crook of my neck – still so oddly _uncollared_ – as he caresses my ribs, alternatively running his fingertips and his knuckles over them. I feel him smile. ‘You’re healthy. Your ribs don’t stick out anymore. That’s so good, Eren.’ I huff with amusement, but mostly amazement; this man has me half-naked and willing, but what seems to matter right now is the fact that my health is improving. I smile along with him; it’s just so very _Levi_. ‘And you’re gaining muscle, too. Still doing those push-ups?’

Now I positively grin, delighted that my efforts are showing. ‘I am!’

‘Gorgeous…’ He trails his lips down my chest, as low as he can go in the current position, which really isn’t much. Still, the feather-light contact and his raspy voice keep me melting. He sighs heavily. ‘I can’t feel all of you like this.’

For a moment, I don’t understand what he means; that’s until he lifts me up slightly, surprisingly strong – as if I weight nothing. He turns us slowly and sets me carefully on my back on the bed. Levi himself straddles my thighs, briefly tapping the mattress around me, as if mapping where my body is exactly. My eyes go wide at the new position.

‘Is this okay, Eren?’

I genuinely consider his question. Is it okay? I’m not even sure how far he intends to go. I don’t want to go into a panic attack and lose it; don’t want to ruin the moment. Giving myself a second or two, I focus on this very moment, on the present; I focus on the way the weight of my body makes me sink and sag slightly into the soft bed, the way my muscles relax, the pleasant weight that is Levi’s body atop my thighs, and the smooth sheets that slide across my bare shoulders. I feel grounded with these sensations; grounded in this place which is most definitely Levi’s home – _our_ home, as he incredibly put it – and not Keith’s brothel.

‘It’s okay. Yeah. This is good.’

He lets me pull him down to me so that he’s caging my body with his and we’re face to face once more. His warm breath tickles my cheeks. ‘You have to tell me if it stops being good. Alright?’

My heart trembles yet again because of how much he _cares_. ‘Alright.’ I can’t help the sudden anxious thought; he seems so fixated on making me feel good – does _he_ even enjoy himself at all? ‘Are you… Is this okay for you, too? Do- do you want it, too?’

Levi leans down, smiling into my neck, his words a whisper. ‘I’ve been waiting so long for this. To touch you. To _see_ you. _Feel_ you.’

I’m gasping; drowning in emotion. He waited for this? If I were an outside observer, I would have laughed; a master waiting for his slave, waiting and not taking the body he’s perfectly entitled to. But I’m not an observer; I’m here, and I understand what he feels. It’s Levi, and he would never take me against my will; he’d never accept submission birthed from obligation. No, he wanted me to want it too, and he wanted me to be ready. And how can I not love him for that?

His touch pulls me out of my train of thought and leaves me melting; he explores every inch of my exposed skin with his lips and tongue as if it were the most treasured gift. As if I’m _worth_ something. My heart seizes up at that idea. It feels like an eternity before he’s finished caressing my neck and arms and moving down to my abdomen; and the only thing I can do is let him do it, and let myself experience it. How strange it is that for once, laying back and taking it doesn’t mean something negative and painful. Levi is giving me things, lets me feel sensations and emotions that I never thought I’d have the privilege to experience. He pays attention to every scar, every unusually smooth line underneath his tongue and fingers. He showers me with such affection that my body spills with it. This is nothing like I could have ever expected; I never thought sex could be so _unhurried_ , filled with emotion and communication and concern for the other, that it could be so much more than an expression of power and a chase for one’s own pleasure. It leaves my eyes wet and heavy with joyful unshed tears. My entire body tingles from Levi’s caress; and hasn’t his touch been the thing that always gave me so much comfort, right from the very moment we’ve met? _That single touch of his hand and my soul is sold_.

‘L-Levi.’ I choke out when he kisses me just below my navel, his hands so close to my crotch. I can feel my body responding to his proximity.

The man pulls himself back up until we’re face to face again. I put a hand on his warm cheek while he slowly trails his right hand down my abdomen, until it reaches the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms. I can’t help but shiver under the tension as Levi leans in and speaks softly, his hot breath tickling my ear. ‘Tell me, Eren. Do you want more? We can stop here, if that’s as much as you’re comfortable with. Don’t feel like you _have to_ do anything.’

There he is, doing it again; squeezing my heart and leaving me breathless. While I’m aware that by ‘more’ he means going all the way to penetration, and that bad memories will definitely resurface as he takes me, I still want to. It’s Levi; whom else can I trust like that? ‘I want to. I want you. I- I _trust_ you.’

Now it’s his turn to shudder above me. With his head still buried in my neck, he slowly slips his hand under my trousers, rubbing at my inner thigh, so close to where my body craves to be touched. Having his face so close to mine, yet being caressed so intimately at the same time is elating. Intoxicating. My breath quickens significantly just when he leans away and moves down to take off the rest of my clothing. I’m hyper aware of every single sensation; his slender fingers hooking around both the trousers and my underwear, the slow drag of cotton, and the squeeze of the elastic band around my thighs as he pulls the clothing off, and my erection, heavy with blood, laying on my stomach. I lay there, wanting and waiting, as Levi drops the rest of my clothes to the floor. I’m completely naked, bare; not even wearing the collar. And yet, there is comfort – not fear – in being so exposed to him. My cheeks go up in flames as I watch him settle in between my legs. As usual, he takes me by surprise again when he doesn’t go for the obvious place from the start; instead, he makes his way across my legs with his lips, kissing and licking my thighs, my knees, my calves – mapping my body to memory.

Levi’s sweet affections send me into a blissful, hazed state, so that when he suddenly licks at my shaft, my whole back arches off the bed, back of my head digging into the mattress, mouth open in a silent scream as my breathing stops. He wraps his arm around my thigh to ground me and hold me in place, and he _does it again_ ; the wet warmth of his tongue providing glorious friction where I need it the most. Something between a groan and a heavy exhale escapes my throat, my back relaxing somewhat. That only lasts a moment, though; his mouth is on me again, wrapped around my tip. My hands grip at my own hair so that I don’t tangle them in his. The pleasure is almost unbearable as I feel more and more of his heat on my flesh. And then he starts _sucking._

‘O-oh, God.’

My voice is nothing more but a sob as I dimly register him pulling away, his hand now replacing his mouth, wrapping tight around me. My mind becomes less and less coherent with each stroke, each lick. I’m lost in the sensations, and breathing becomes difficult; somewhere, in the middle of it all, he takes me into his mouth again, his nose almost against my pubic hair. Some irrelevant part of my subconsciousness notices that he’s clearly inexperienced; no real finesse and no coordination in his movements, but that’s all it is; irrelevant. It’s _Levi_ , and that is enough to put me on edge within what feels like moments.

‘Ah, Le- Levi, I-’ I lick my dry lips. ‘Oh God, oh God… Levi, I- I’m g- I’m going t… to come-’

What I expect him to do is to pull away, not to suck with more vigour. It takes a moment for my clouded mind to realise that he actually _wants_ me to finish in his mouth. The thought is so bizarre, and the sensations are so _perfect_ , that orgasm finally peaks through me, making me moan and my back arch again, and for a few delicious seconds I ride out the wave of searing white-hot pleasure. So blank; my mind is so blissfully blank.

I come down from the high with heaving breaths, my consciousness slowly returning. It is only then that I feel Levi’s mouth sliding off my oversensitive skin; looking down to see him licking his lips, it dawns on me what he just did. ‘Levi, wh- why did you- you didn’t have to-’

Quickly lifting himself up, he nuzzles at my neck again. ‘I know. I wanted to. Since I can’t see you… I want to feel you. Hear you. _Taste_ you.’

He’s going to drive me insane. Pulling him in for a kiss, I taste my own saltiness on his tongue. I pull away to murmur, embarrassed. ‘I… I came so quickly…’ Something more rational in my head tells me that it doesn’t matter; but the old fears whisper that coming too early is a bad thing, and especially, coming without permission.

‘Well, then… maybe then you’ll last longer when you’re inside me.’

He… What did he say?

It takes me a good while to put the words together. ‘You… want me to… top?’ In all the times I’ve thought about us like this, I never considered me being on top; that thought never even occurred to me.

‘If you want. I’d rather you would, for our first time.’

I swear, his words just keep tearing me apart. Of course. He’s giving over the control to me, letting me take the lead, decide the pace of things because he knows my trauma. Should I be offended, I wonder? That he’s treating me like such a weakling. Patronising me. But I couldn’t really care less; the only thing I feel is uninhibited gratitude, affection, and love for his consideration and understanding. ‘If that’s what you want, too.’ I pull myself up to a sitting position, and Levi sits up as well, lips still nipping at mine.

‘I do. I want this.’

Pushing gently at his chest, I guide him so that he’s laying on his back comfortably, our positions now reversed. He looks so otherworldly like that; lips reddened from kissing, blush on his cheeks, and black strands of hair splayed on the clean white sheets in perfect contrast. He looks like a piece of art, and for me it’s a privilege to worship his body. My kisses and my licks might not be as slow and languid as his, because if there is one thing I know for certain about myself, is that I’m not always a patient man; I want _all of him_ , right _now._ But then at the same time, how can I not savour every inch of his gorgeous skin? The internal fight has me whining, going against my instincts, until I descend low enough to graze my teeth over the pubic hair peeking above his jeans, below which is a noticeable bulge.

Reaching for the zipper and undoing the button already, I mouth at those beautiful, slender hips of his. ‘This okay?’ It is only once the trousers are loose enough to pull down and I have my hands around the waistband already that I realise I haven’t received an answer. Looking up to his face, I see him biting his lip, his brow furrowed. Oh, fuck. This isn’t okay. Something is far from okay. ‘Levi?’ I’m back up in an instant, hovering over his face. But he turns away. ‘Levi, what’s- what’s wrong? Do you want to stop? Have… Have I done something? Talk to me, hm?’ I speak softly, brushing the black strands of hair from his face.

It takes him a moment of long pondering and nervous lip-chewing before he mumbles something out. I barely hear anything, but one word stands out clear; _ugly_.

My heart sinks. ‘Hm? What was that? Can you repeat that, Levi?’

‘I’m ugly.’

My heart shatters. ‘What? What are you saying? Why would you say something like that?’

‘Because it’s true. My legs, they- they’re disgusting. They got crushed in the accident. They’re _marred_ , covered in scars.’ With the corner of my eye, I see him pressing his thighs together.

I sigh, my soul weary and heavy, knowing he’s so full of hatred and disgust towards himself again. He might want this, but as always, he’s holding back and thinking of himself as inferior; how utterly ironic. Looks like I’ll just have to coax him to open up; I’ll try with something simple. ‘Levi. I have scars, too. You’ve felt them, right? You really think a few scars of your own will have me running away?’ Just as I expected, he doesn’t answer; he can’t deny my logic, but at the same time he’s not willing to give in just yet. Tentatively, I place my palm on his crotch making him shudder and gasp. ‘Here. How about this. Do you like how my hand feels?’ I rub him through his clothes lazily, feeling his heat through the fabric. He gasps again, nodding in affirmation, the blush returning to his cheeks. ‘Good. Want more?’

He manages a more elaborate answer this time. ‘I…  I think so.’

‘Mm. I think you do, but you’re just self-conscious, even though you must know, at least subconsciously, how gorgeous I think you are.’ Placing a quick kiss on his collarbone, I continue talking. ‘So let’s do this; I undress you, and keep touching you. But if and when you get anxious, you tell me, and I stop. Just like you told me; seems fair?’

It’s with a heavy sigh that he agrees. ‘Okay.’

Pressing my lips briefly to his, I put in as much affection and encouragement into the kiss as I can before moving back down and kneeling beside his legs. As I massage his thighs to get them to open just a little, I can’t help but wonder how strange it feels for me to be taking the lead like that; but seeing Levi so unsure of himself, so vulnerable, seemed to wake up some instinct in me. Some primal need to protect. So when his thighs part just slightly, I take that as my sign to continue. Slowly, I pull the jeans and underwear off, exposing more and more of his toned, pale legs. Pale, _scarred_ legs.

I take a moment to admire him, fully nude and splayed on the bed. Yet, my heart continues to break at the very evident and noticeable marks that I’ve just exposed; even more evidence of this man’s pain, of the difficulties he’s been through, and the reminders which he still has to bear. I lean down, running my fingers with reverence over the bumps and patches of unnaturally smooth skin. Half way up on the outer side of his left calf my fingers find the biggest mark; an indentation, or more like a ridge in the limb, as if a part of his flesh has been ripped out. Pressing my lips to it, I can only wish I could kiss his torment away. ‘So beautiful, Levi.’

‘Come on. Don’t give me that crap, Eren. Please, just… just spare me this.’ He sighs, dejected.

I smile sadly. ‘You don’t understand. Maybe you do have big scars. Maybe they wouldn’t hire you as a nude model. So what? Why should you care? Why should I care? You still look like an angel, and more importantly, you have the heart of one. And call me naïve or whatever but to me, that’s what the real, important beauty is. And if you can accept me without… without seeing me, then I can also look past your scars.’ The words surprise me with the ease with which they flow. ‘And they only serve to show how strong you are. That’s what they are; like badges and medals.’

Levi huffs a small laugh above me, and I couldn’t have been happier to hear that sound. It dies off with a gasp as I drag an unexpected lick over his hardening length. Giving myself a mental pat on the back, I feel just a little proud that there’s no anxiety in me this time. Giving the shaft another lick on the other side, I watch with held breath as he opens up and parts his thighs enough for me to settle in between them.

This time is also different – and better – because I’m not trying to go on pilot anymore; I know it’s not what either of us wants. He wants something genuine, and I’m more than happy to oblige. I take my sweet, sweet time in pleasuring him with my mouth, actually enjoying the taste of his skin and the salty precome leaking from his hardening length. Licking at the slit, the vein, under the foreskin, I marvel at the beautiful curve of his body that I can just about see when he arches his back, and at those strained moans with growing desperation that fill the room.

However, it isn’t long before long fingers tangle weakly in my hair. ‘C-close… Closer, Eren. Up- up here, come up here.’ His words are completely breathless, and it’s a heavenly sound.

As happy as I am down here, nothing can be better than being close to his beating heart, being able to hold him close; so I let him guide me up slowly with delicate tugs to my hair. Stroking him with one hand and supporting myself with the other, my mouth is free to explore his abdomen, his chest, until my lips wrap around one of his nipples. Sucking and nibbling at the rosy bud – first one and then the other – I learn that unlike my own, they aren’t very sensitive. I don’t let that deter me though and without much thinking and in my determined search for his weak point, I lean over to catch one of the fingers of his free hand with my lips; those seemed sensitive the last time. Expectedly, Levi’s first reaction is confusion, apparent in his furrowed brow. But as I start to swirl my tongue around the digit, dipping in the corners between his fingers, his jaw goes slack as he whines. His head is thrown back so beautifully, his long neck looking irresistible; abandoning his hand for now, my lips are on his throat in a second.

The intensity of his reaction alarms me for a moment, making me worry it’s not a good one; but the violent shudder accompanied by a shout dying off with a moan and the twitch of his shaft in my hand indicate otherwise. I found it.

And now that I found it, I’m merciless with my affections to the delicate, sensitive skin on his neck, under his jaw, behind his ear. It only takes a few moments to reduce Levi to a completely incoherent, groaning, _magnificent_ mess of sweat and drool and heat. In-between the noises he makes, I think I can make out some breathless words; my own name, and begs to not stop – not as if I would consider it; not before I make him fall apart from pleasure. I find myself utterly captivated by the display underneath me, and the words tumble out on their own. ‘You’re so gorgeous, Levi. So good. If you could only believe how perfect you are. Breath-taking.’

He practically _mewls_ at my praise, grabbing onto my shoulders for support. ‘A-ah… Hah, Er-en. Please. Please, oh God-’

‘That’s it, that’s it now. Come on, Levi. Come for me. Come for me, Levi.’

He shatters so wonderfully; all gasps and moans and twitches. How is it possible; the man, that just a few months ago I looked up to as my beautiful, stoic, distant master; this man is now naked under me – so open and honest and willing.

Finally, his breathing evens out. ‘You good, Levi?’

‘M-mhm. Yeah.’ He sighs. ‘Really good.’

His grip around my shoulders loosen. I take that as a chance to untangle myself from him for a moment with a quick peck to the tip of his nose. ‘Be back in a moment. Just gonna get you a tissue.’ Lifting myself up and seeing his peaceful expression disappear, I remember his ‘unofficial’ abandonment issues. ‘I’ll literally be twenty seconds.’ Levi nods, visibly relaxing and sinking back into the sheets.

I almost trip over my own jelly-like legs when trotting hastily to Levi’s bathroom, but in the end, I manage to make it to the sink on both of my feet to wash my hands. Grabbing a tissue for Levi, I’m back in the bed and carefully wiping him off within seconds, as promised. I drop the tissue on the floor for now, hoping the man won’t kill me for it later, and lay down beside him on my side.

Tracing my fingers idly over his chest, I give him a few more minutes to come back down. I smile when he nuzzles into my neck. ‘So… Are you, um, still up for more? Or do you wanna call it a day?’

Levi sighs, noticeably deflating. ‘I… I want to do it, I do, but. I-I fucked up.’

‘Hm? What?’

‘I fucked up, I…’ He covers his mouth with his hand in clear embarrassment about something, so I can barely make out what he’s saying. ‘I don’t actually have lube. I’m… You know I’ve been completely sexually inactive, s-so…’

Oh. _That’s_ the problem? I wouldn’t be able to count the times that I’ve been taken using spit or even dry. But that’s when I realise that apparently _Levi_ is the one who’s going to bottom, and I’d never put him through this sort of discomfort and pain. After wrecking my head for a while, an idea pops up. ‘Coconut oil?’

‘W… What?’

I give a shrug. ‘Coconut oil. We could use that. It’s healthy, generally safe, I think? Probably not the best moment to be remembering my dad, but I remember overhearing him instructing one or two patients to use it to reduce the burn of doing an enema at home. I remember thinking it was so gross; never thought I’d be taking that kind of advice from him.’ I shake my head. My laughter makes the bed shake a little, and Levi joins me.

‘Well, alright then? Wanna go warm some up a bit? I’ll go wash up.’

He kisses me briefly before getting up and heat flares in my gut; we’re actually going to do it. I don’t deny myself the pleasure of watching his gorgeous body as he guides his way to his bathroom and closes the door behind himself. It’s only when I hear the water run in the shower that I get up too and walk to the kitchen.

Levi is a big fan of the fancy oil for cooking purposes; there definitely isn’t a shortage of it in the house so I scoop a hearty two table spoons into a small saucepan. Watching the white chunks melt into a clear liquid quickly, I distantly wonder how odd it feels to just be parading around Levi’s apartment naked. Odd, but… good? Odd, but very personal, somehow? Hard to find a good word, but it feels like something a _couple_ might do…? I shake my head. No, let’s not overthink. And let’s grab a mug; I’m not heating this up for cooking, so this should be enough.

Pouring the oil into a small cup, I stick my finger in to make sure it’s not actually hot. Once I realise the shower hasn’t been running for a while, I hurry back to the bedroom, not wanting to leave Levi waiting. When I’m back, he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, with his hair a little damp and a blue towel wrapped loosely around his hips. His head perks up when he hears me entering.

‘All ready?’ I ask him with a smile, sitting on the bed beside him and setting the cup down on the nightstand. Looking over him, I notice the goose-bumps on his skin as he leans in towards me. I quickly wrap my arms around him in a tight embrace, hoping to share some of my own body heat. ‘Are you cold?’

He hums something noncommittal into my chest as I keep rubbing circles on his back. Soon enough, he pulls away. ‘You have it, yeah?’

‘Yeah, have it here.’ Leaning over to dip a finger in the makeshift lube again, I hold Levi’s hand and smear a decent amount on the inside of his wrist. ‘Is that too hot?’

‘No, it’s good. Nice and warm.’

‘Good.’ Feeling a little playful and silly, I wipe off the rest of the oil I have on my finger on Levi’s chest.

The man’s offended gasp is a predictable but still hilarious reaction. ‘Eren! Did you just- Gross!’ His hand flies towards me and it just happens to land on my face, where it pinches my cheek lightly. I laugh, full of genuine mirth.

I never would have imagined intimacy could be like this.

I lean in for a quick apologetic kiss, and Levi gives in pretty quickly. He wraps one arm around my shoulders, making it a tiny make-out session rather than just a quick peck. It makes me pleasantly warm inside to think that he might enjoy our kissing just as much as I do. After a while, with a final lick to my lips, he leans back.

‘So, uh- How should I…’

It’s honestly so endearing how he blushes. ‘On all fours? Just for the, um, the prepping, and then you can lay on your back?’ I feel infinitely weird, planning it all out like this, but this also is a good kind of weird. Knowing what happens next keeps my potential anxiety dormant.

‘O-okay.’ Chewing on his lip briefly, he pulls away, slowly getting into position, the soft duvet dipping underneath his hands and knees, his legs spread just slightly. I drop the towel that has fallen off his hips on the floor. ‘Hah… This- I feel so lewd.’

Ah. So he _is_ a bit nervous. ‘Hey. It’s okay, it’s just me here, yeah?’ I kiss his cheek and rub his back encouragingly, and he visibly leans into my hand. ‘And don’t worry, you look so gorgeous like that’. My mouth moves to his sensitive neck, while my hand travels lower, slowly caressing his behind. He shudders and moans softly; the previous playfulness seems to be gone in a blink, replaced with slowly burning liquid heat of arousal. ‘You ready?’

Levi licks his lips and nods. This is it, then.

I settle behind him, sitting on my haunches, still a bit dizzy from the fact that it’s me who’s taking the lead. While I admire his body, the beautiful curve of his back, his slowly-hardening shaft hanging between his legs, it’s difficult to ignore the sudden nervousness of my own. Suddenly, all I can see is myself in the same position, just in a different place. My own body, beaten and weak, struggling to keep itself up. My own pain. My own cries and begging for mercy. _Please. Please, no. Oh God, it hurts so much… Have mercy…_

I don’t want to hurt him. He trusts me. He trusts me completely. What if I accidentally break this trust? God, please, that’s the last thing I want. No. I won’t hurt him; if I’ll be slow and gentle, it will be okay. It has to be possible to have sex without pain, right?

My hands rest on his buttocks, and Levi jumps up at the contact but doesn’t move away. I run my hands over the milky, smooth skin, feeling as if I’m convincing more _myself_ than him that my touch doesn’t cause him harm. Curious, I pull his cheeks apart slightly and get a clear view of Levi’s small, pink entrance. I hear him gasp. Still feeling lightheaded from the trust he’s giving me and the intimacy, I lean in, the clean scent of soap filling my nose. The man lets out something between a broken sob and a gasp as I lick a long, wide stripe over his hole, and his reaction goes straight to my groin. I do it again; this time, pointing my tongue and tracing around the tight ring of muscle for a while, before poking gently inside. His desperate whines and shudders are absolutely worth it. But while I would love to work him open with my tongue and leave him a drooling, mindless mess of pleasure, we have other plans for tonight; I still have to prepare him, and I already don’t know how I’ll be able to last if he’ll be putting on such a display. I wonder if he even realises how stunningly sensual and erotic he is.

With a final lick, I lean over to the nightstand, coating two of my fingers with as much oil as possible and sit back behind him. Freezing up for a moment, I think about how to start, and I’m brought back to the present when a drop of the oil drips on my thigh. With slightly shaky hands, I get a hold of his hip with the clean one while tracing an oiled finger over his hole, spreading the lube. _I won’t hurt him. I won’t._

‘I’ll-’ I have to swallow since my throat is gone dry. ‘I’ll start now.’

‘Y-yeah. Please.’ His raspy voice makes my own body shudder.

With a hammering heart, I slowly push at Levi’s entrance, steadily increasing the pressure until I breach the muscle and finally slip inside, making us both gasp. I’m mesmerised by the sight of my own digit disappearing inside of him; I pull it out slowly, only to push it back in, this time all the way inside the tight heat. ‘You good?’

‘Y… Yeah.’ He gasps. ‘I-Is that your finger? It feels, a-ah, so small?’

I suddenly feel a bit silly, twisting my arm at an odd angle to move the finger around inside a bit, and my words sound sheepish. ‘Well, it’s uh… It’s my pinky finger.’ A breathless laughter fills up the room, and Levi’s body and the bed shake from it. I ‘tsk’ at him, withdrawing the digit in one steady movement, making the laughter change into a gasp. ‘Just trying to be a gentleman here and go slow, you know?’

His words are warm and I can hear a faint smile in them. ‘I- I know. I appreciate that, Eren. Can you just…’ I hear him release a shaky breath. ‘Just… give me a- a little more… _please_.’

Looking at his fully hardened length I realise that, indeed, he’s in a dire need for _much_ more. ‘Anything for you, darling.’ I give him a few strokes to relieve the pressure slightly, but remove my hand quickly when he starts bucking into it. He whines at the loss of stimulation. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get more. I’ll give you what you need. I’ll make you feel good.’ I whisper the sweet nothings while tracing my middle finger over his oiled hole before slowly pushing in to the knuckle. My own shaft twitches at how wonderful it feels; so very tight and so incredibly warm. I’ve put my fingers in my own body countless times before to stretch myself, but the fact that it’s Levi who’s letting me do it to his body makes it feel infinitely better.

Levi’s gasps steadily increase in volume as I work my finger in and out of him. Once I assume he’s ready, I withdraw, scoop up more oil, and slide the finger back in, which goes in with ease now – almost as if sucked in. Excess lube flows down his inner thigh, and I can only guess how far gone he is since he doesn’t even complain about the mess on his skin. Then, ever so slowly, I nudge a second digit at his entrance, giving him a moment to mentally prepare himself for the additional intrusion. He shivers.

‘Just relax. Don’t clench your muscles. It won’t hurt.’

_I won’t hurt him. I won’t hurt him._

When he doesn’t protest, I keep pressing, until the second finger pushes through the entrance too, beside the other one. He groans loudly; it doesn’t sound pained but I stop nonetheless, feeling his body clench instinctively. I rub slow circles on his lower back with my free hand and soon he’s relaxing again, and managing to remain that way until both of my fingers are seated inside him fully. It’s an indescribable sight.

My own arousal starts to make it hard to think, to speak. ‘You… you’re doing so well, Levi.’ He whines high in his throat, seemingly enjoying the praise. As I start to slowly pump both digits in and out of him, I lean over his body, chest pressed to his back and my mouth at his ear, breathing heavily into it. ‘Ahh, Levi- Levi, you’re so warm, so hot inside. G- _God_. S-soft… So soft and tight, h-hah… Can’t wait to be inside you.’ My hips start to rut against his thigh on their own accord, my body desperate for some kind of friction and making both of us groan. ‘Do you like that, Levi?’

‘Ye-yeah- Ah! Plea- mo… more, p-please, E…Eren, m-more.’ His own words are breathless and barely audible, sounding like he’s tripping over his own tongue.

Synchronising my movements, I spread my fingers, opening him up, just as I start sucking at a soft, delicious spot underneath his jaw. His shudder is so violent that it makes both of us shake. He downright _sobs_ , pleasure wrecking him more and more with each sensation as I keep scissoring him. After another while, I bring my fingers back together and push them in as far as possible, curling up, searching.

As soon as I feel the gland underneath my fingertips, he falls, his arms giving out from underneath him, my own body bending over his to remain close. He screams, but the noise is mostly muffled by the bed. His hands clutch the sheets until the knuckles turn white. I kiss the back of his neck while rubbing that intensely sensitive spot inside him. His shouts don’t stop; they only become louder as he turns his head to breathe properly, but soon enough they turn to continuous sobs and cries. In the fading evening light, I can see the shine of tears on his face. Or is it sweat? Either way, I know he’s reaching his limit; if I were to touch him now, he’d probably come within seconds.

Having a little mercy, I pull my fingers back, giving Levi’s prostate a break. His whole body is heaving with quick breaths. While he’s still high on blinding pleasure, I nudge his hole with a third, final finger. ‘One… Just one more, Levi. One more finger.’ I’m pleased to feel that the resistance isn’t too great after the thorough stretching I’ve done so far. ‘That’s it, ah, that’s it, Levi. So good.’ I’m not entirely sure he comprehends what I’m saying, or even hears me. Still leaning over his body, I have to fight the urge to sit back and watch three of my digits move, soon fully buried inside Levi’s entrance; I don’t know if I would have the strength to stop my free hand from taking a hold of my own shaft and bringing myself to the much-needed orgasm. The sensation alone is breath-taking.

Something happens then, and everything changes; I feel like I’m getting a mental whiplash. In the first split of second, I don’t even understand what is going on; Levi’s shouting, but it’s not the good, aroused cries anymore. Acting out of instinct and not logic or comprehension, my fingers are out of him and my body is off of his in a flash, just as he falls on his side. He curls up on the bed, groaning and hissing loudly, and it finally hits me that he’s _in pain._

_Oh God, I’ve hurt him._

‘Levi! Levi, talk to me, what’s going on?!’

As confusion lifts like a heavy fog, I notice him digging his fingers into his leg; more specifically, into his calf, where the disturbingly deep scar is. It seems like it’s hard for him to find his words and to get them out between his pained whines. ‘C-cramp. A-agh, f…fuck, this is-’ My hands are on his leg in an instant, kneading the clenched muscle, desperate to stop Levi from hurting. He keeps explaining; or at least tries to. ‘This f-fucking leg- Fuck! I-It does that so-sometimes… W-when in one p-position, for… _shit_ \- for too long.’

_It’s my fault. It’s my fault._

‘I’m so sorry, Levi. I’m sorry.’ My heart breaks, but I feel relieved when I hear his groans gradually die out.

He sighs tiredly. ‘It’s not your fault. The stupid thing acts up since the accident.’

I lean into his neck when I feel his body relax when the wave of pain had passed. ‘Don’t talk about your body like that.’ I murmur and wait until his breathing returns to normal before gently guiding him to lay on his back; despite the interruption, we’re both still almost fully hard, there is still a blush on Levi’s cheeks and a look of lust in his unseeing eyes; we both still want it. ‘Are you better now? Do you think you’ll be okay on your back?’ I bend down to kiss his chest lightly. ‘I think you’re prepped enough anyway-’

‘Stop, Eren, just _stop._ ’ Alarmed and terrified, I jump away from him as if burned, moving to sit on my haunches in front of him. Holding my breath and with wide eyes, I watch him lift himself up to a sitting position. He covers his face with his hands. My blood runs cold. ‘How… How can you even still want it?’

‘W…what?’

‘How can you still want to have sex with me? I’m fucking pathetic. You had to coddle me over the scars, I had no lube, and now I can’t even get on my hands and knees for five fucking seconds. And I’m a fucking blind invalid. Even now I’m acting like a spoilt brat throwing a tantrum, I know. I’m aware. But I already ruined the mood fifty fucking times, so-’

I need to make him _stop._ ‘Levi, hold on a seco-’

He pulls at his hair. ‘No, don’t try to tell me it’s okay. I wanted to take care of you- I should be the one taking care of you, especially now, with _this._ But look how it turned out-’

‘Hey, hey. Shh. Hold on for a moment.’ I rub his knees, hoping to get him to ease up a little, and at least let me talk to him. When I see he has quietened down, I move to sit beside him and gently take his hand, untangling it from his hair and wrapping it in mine. ‘Now. Please listen to me for a second?’ He doesn’t react, but I take his lack of protest, at least, as a sign to continue. ‘Believe me when I say that… you’ve taken care of me- you _are_ taking care of me; you took your time with me, you’ve let me take the lead and do things at my own pace, and really, that’s more than I would have ever hoped for.’

‘That’s bullshit. You’re just trying to make me feel less like an ass.’

I shake my head. He can be so stubborn at times. ‘That’s not-’ I want to argue, but realise that won’t convince him; something else is needed here. Sighing, I start putting the sentences together in my head, hoping what will come out will be coherent. ‘Okay. Just… Listen, okay? I want you to understand me well. You know… Back in the brothel, I often wondered what it’s like to have consensual sex. I couldn’t fathom, couldn’t understand how all the parties involved could possibly enjoy it, how it didn’t have to always end up with someone crying and hurt. I always thought… that sex is methodical, and disciplined, I dunno- always serious, always has to be perfect, like some kind of performance. No room for negotiation or second thoughts or mistakes. But- but what we’re doing now, it’s so different. And it’s so much better, I can’t even put it in words, but- I never thought you could laugh in bed, never thought that- that orgasm wouldn’t feel like the ultimate goal, that the goal would be to just feel… feel genuinely _happy_ , and good, and taking care of each other.’ I rub circles over the top of his hand, trying to comfort, and suddenly remembering how he did the same for me, back when he was hell-bent to convince me I’m human. ‘I _want_ to laugh with you, and rub the cramp out of your leg, I’ll bring you water if you need it, and I’ll tell you you’re beautiful as much as you need to hear it to feel happy and comfortable, because- because this feels just so much richer, and better and real, than- than this idea I had in my head, and that maybe you have, too; the idea of how sex should be; stupidly ‘perfect’ and impersonal and cold. But maybe… maybe that’s what fucking is. But I- I don’t want to _fuck_ you, Levi.’ The disgusting word on my tongue makes me wince. ‘I want to _make love_ to you.’

His eyes widen as he takes in a slow, shaky breath; and that’s when I realise what I said. I said the big word; I finally put a name on my feelings. There are no more ambiguities; he knows now. Putting my heart out there, I know I might have fucked it all up. He might not mind me, and he might be sexually deprived enough to get seduced by me, but… is there a chance he could reciprocate my feelings? I settle for watching him, holding my breath and motionless, as he turns his head more towards mine. Once his hand manages to find my cheek and caress it with such gentleness and reverence, as if it were a holy glass figurine, the shock melts away from his expression, and something softer and pleased takes its place.

Levi takes a breath, and my stomach twists.

‘Let’s… Let’s make _love_ , Eren.’

My aching lungs finally get their fill of air, making it sound more like a sob rather than a gasp. It can’t possibly be happening, can it? He said it, but- God, can it really be possible? My mind is racing but my body is frozen until Levi slowly leans in, first pressing a kiss to my chin and then finding his way to my lips, making the storm inside me calm down. The conversation, the doubts; they can wait. Right now, there is only Levi and his soft lips so tender against my own that it makes me want to weep. I sob into his mouth, everything falling around me; but falling _into place_ , and feeling so _right_ as our tongues intertwine. Finally being able to move again, I wrap my arms around him and he returns the embrace. We kiss and we hold each other close, and nothing has ever been this right in my life.

The air soon fills up with desire and arousal once more, all traces of doubts gone. Still holding onto him, I turn Levi so that he lays on his back, carefully, so as to not disorient him. After kissing for another while, I start to pull away; reluctant to do so, but more lube will be needed. Levi isn’t too thrilled about the lost proximity, but he understands and doesn’t stop me. I do a quick job of scooping up more oil and slicking myself up thoroughly. Levi parts his legs so gorgeously without even being prompted, so that I can spread some more oil over his entrance. Finally, I grab a pillow and guide him to lift up his hips so that I can slide it underneath him.

Holding myself in one hand and lining myself up while balancing my upper body above him with the other, I briefly kiss him again. ‘You ready, love?’

He shudders, whining quietly. ‘Y-yes. Yes, Ere- yes, yes. I’m ready.’

Taking a steadying breath, I capture his lips with mine again as I start to ever so slowly push at his hole. With the thorough preparation and oil, the resistance is minimal, and it doesn’t take much pressure for me to push past the ring of muscle, my tip now inside his body. We break the kiss, both of us gasping from the pleasure of the new sensation. I stay still for a moment, letting Levi adjust to the intrusion in his body. Once I sense he’s relaxing again, I push my hips forward another bit. Neither of us can suppress another groan and Levi’s back arches off the bed. I listen attentively to all the noises he makes in case I can pick up on anything that signals discomfort. When I don’t hear it, I push in further again until I’m buried fully inside him, my hips flush against his.

I stay still again, this time giving both of us time to adjust. I let my mind sway in the intense, blinding pleasure of the tight heat around me; but the most breath-taking aspect is that it is _Levi_ ; I’m inside Levi’s body, and we’re physically connected in the most intimate way possible. My whole body shudders and I let my forehead rest for a moment on Levi’s chest, feeling the man’s thighs quake around my hips.

‘Are…. Are you okay?’ I can barely hear my distant words.

‘Yeah. Yeah, y-you can move.’ His own words are breathless, barely audible above my head.

Lifting myself back up to hover over his body again, I rest my weight on both of my hands now, caging his body with my own. Bringing our lips together again, I move my hips back slowly, just short of sliding out of him. We both moan into each other’s mouth from the delicious friction, and I know neither of us will last long. And that’s okay.

I push back all the way in before moving back again. Soon, I have a steady rhythm established, my hips undulating slowly, and slick, wet sounds fill the room. It becomes more and more difficult for our tongues to keep up, our minds too fogged with arousal. Still, words bubble up within me, and now I don’t have a reason to hold back. ‘I… I love you. I love you so- ah… h-hah, I love you s-so much, Levi. So much.’

Levi is less talkative; instead, he responds by wrapping all of his limbs around me until it’s slightly more difficult for me to move, but I love it. Our chests are pressed together, sliding together with my movements, bodies as close as possible. His presence fills all of my senses and I feel like I could go crazy with it. It doesn’t take long for his fingers to tangle themselves in my hair, clenching and unclenching, scratching at my scalp; he needs more, and so do I. Increasing the pace a little, I move one hand between our bodies with some difficulty to take a hold of Levi’s shaft, covered in its own precome, and start stroking in time with my more urgent thrusts. He throws his head back and I watch his beautiful face contort in white hot pleasure; his furrowed brow, eyes squeezed shut, his open mouth, the dark blush on his cheeks, and strands of hair stuck to his sweat-dampened forehead. The stunning sight makes my hips break their rhythm, my movements becoming irregular from my quickly-approaching orgasm. Levi’s shaking thighs and now continuous moans are a clear indication he’s close too. As I work to bring both of us closer and higher, my heart hammers in my chest, as if it wants to escape from it and reach Levi’s own and beat beside his.

Levi’s moans become broken and strained and all his muscles tense as he reaches his peak with a shout that sounds vaguely like my name, his whole body shaking under the tension. The shouting doesn’t stop until his warm seed stops spilling into my hand, some of it ending up between our bodies, smearing over our skin. The way his body clenches around me and the moans he lets out bring me to completion just seconds behind him. My arm barely holds me up through my orgasm that makes my ears ring and steals all air from my lungs. I finish inside him, marking his body with my own come; that thought itself makes me throat go dry.

We try to catch our breath coming down from our shared high. My body grows tired quickly and I’m barely holding myself up. To not collapse on top of Levi, I pull out slowly making both of us hiss at the friction on our now over-sensitive skin. Heaving myself up with tremendous effort, I admire the wonderful mess that is Levi’s splayed, heaving, blushed body – I want nothing more but to curl up beside him, but instead I lean over the edge of the bed where I dropped the towel previously. It’s still damp, so I use it to wipe my hands and chest before using the other end to clean off Levi’s skin and where my seed is slowly leaking out from between his legs. I drop it back on the floor, simply incapable of standing up and throwing it in the laundry basket.

I lean over Levi again for a moment – supporting myself with my other arm now – and caress his cheek, my breath finally closer to its usual speed and rhythm. ‘Are you alright? Was I too rough? I… Did- did I hurt you?’

He smiles tiredly but in control of his own breathing, too. ‘No, not at all. It was- it was amazing. And… what about you? Are you okay? You… all here with me?’

My heart clenches. I couldn’t possibly adore him more than I already do; he understands. He understands that sex might still bring me back to that place. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. All here.’

‘Good.’ However, his smile fades, giving place to confusion and worry that I don’t understand. ‘Eren, are you crying?’

‘H-huh?’ His question catches me infinitely off guard, but I bring my hand from his cheek to my own and, surely enough, find it wet. I spot a wet drop on Levi’s cheek. ‘I-I don’t understand, I-?! Why am I- L-Levi, I swear, I… I liked it- don’t know why I’m crying, I’m sorry-’

‘Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay.’ His hand finds and covers my own over my face. ‘If you’re fine, then it’s okay. You know, it’s not all that uncommon to cry during or after sex, you know? Maybe you’re just feeling a little… overwhelmed, hm?’

‘I-I think so, yeah. Yeah. But in a good way.’

‘That’s good.’ His small smile returns. ‘Now, wanna get ready for sleep before you fall and sleep on top of me?’

His words make me choke out a small laugh. ‘Yeah, that’s probably wise.’

Lifting myself off of him, I help him sit up too. ‘Now, where’s the headboard? Lost my track a bit here.’

‘Here, over here.’ I pull him lightly in the right direction and he quickly wiggles underneath the duvet. ‘Um, I wonder, should we change the sheets?’

‘Absolutely fucking not.’ He murmurs into his pillow. ‘Unless you’ve got some strength left. If not, just take off the linen off the duvet if you want and we’ll put a fresh one on in the morning.’

I gasp, feigning offence, already unbuttoning the linen and pulling it off. ‘And sleep without one? How will my poor mom’s soul endure that?’ I drop the duvet cover, adding to the mess on the floor before snuggling in beside Levi. His arm is around my shoulders in an instant, pulling me into his chest. Chewing a bit at my lip, I decide to ask the question that’s been subconsciously burning in my mind since we decided on making _love._ ‘Levi, um, uh- before you fall asleep…’ I laugh nervously. ‘Does that mean, that- Do you- Do you… love me?’ My chest feels like it’s going to cave in.

His arm tightens around me. ‘Of course I love you, Eren. Wasn’t it obvious?’

My breath hitches and I freeze. It takes me a moment to process his words. _He loves me, too._ Was it obvious? My first thought is to laugh; how could I dare and assume such a thing? But when I think about it, when I think of all the selfless things he’s done for me, how he brought me back from nothing, how he encouraged me to grow and to become independent as much as I can, how he cared about my health, how he even paid ridiculous money just so that I could see my friend for one night – I reconsider. My hand touches my bare neck, without the collar; somehow, it doesn’t even feel that strange, because he’s always treated me as if I wasn’t wearing one from the very start. Wasn’t it obvious?

This time, I can feel the tears coming; my eyes ache with the effort of holding them back. I fail anyway. ‘Oh.’ The quiet sound is the only one I manage to make, feeling completely overcome with emotion. Heavy tears fall down my cheeks and onto Levi’s chest as I sniffle softly.

‘Shhh, shhh. You’re okay. Everything is fine. I’ve got you. Shh.’ He coos, stroking my hair and letting me cry.

I want to tell him; tell him about my fear that peeks through the immense relief – the fear that it’s too good to be true, that I’m scared to lose him. But I can’t; my tightened throat won’t cooperate. And maybe it’s for the best, so I push these thoughts to the back of my mind, and concentrate on the absolute blinding bliss and joy; he loves me. By some miracle, he loves me.

Smiling through tears, my own words come back to me, punched out with little dots on a card; _I’m so happy here_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, couple of things;
> 
> \- Terribly sorry for not updating for a month; things are super hectic - I was working, I'm starting my masters soon, moving to a new country. So I'm also sorry if the future updates will not be more frequent either; I totally understand if some people will lose interest in this if I don't update often enough. Thank you for sticking this far anyway, and of course, even bigger thanks to those who'll continue to read it <33   
> \- This chapter is officially the longest one yet :D   
> \- If this was a book or a novel or whatever, this would probably be the end of part 1. For anyone who's bored with the happy stuff, fret not, angst will come back full force very soon >:D Let's get this show back on the road lolol  
> \- I hope you liked the smut scene and that I didn't overdo it; I was aiming for smut that wouldn't be there just for the sake of it, but something that would furhter the plot and relationship, let both Eren and Levi talk about their feelings and insecurities  
> \- Before you all kill me; a number of sources do claim that coconut oil can be used as lube, but not with condoms and ideally not for vaginal penetration, and both don't apply here 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, no chance I would have gotten so far without your support! <3


	17. The Agony of Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank every event in the universe that contributed to me discovering this song, in this particular version, many years ago; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxHh-9to0gk (VNV Nation - Illusion [Live At The M'era Luna Festival]) It always feels as if many mysteries of existence are wrapped up in those five minutes.

We’re insatiable.

It seems as if soft moans and quiet rustling of sheets constantly fill the apartment; we make love when we wake up in the morning, and we make love when the sun has long since set. The bed in my room is cold and forgotten. It probably isn’t more than a week since we did it for the first time, but I find that I know his body so perfectly; what kind of caress and where makes him arch his back the most and sigh the sweetest, that it feels like learning his body was all I’ve ever done in my life.

We realise soon that we both prefer when I top; not that I didn’t enjoy Levi’s delicious, comforting weight on top of me as he buried himself deep in my warm and willing body. It was impossible for me to stop the tears from how good, how _exhilarating_ and elating it felt; it almost made me forget for a moment that sex was used to punish and humiliate me for so long. And Levi enjoyed being on top, too. And yet somehow, it’s not exactly what we both _need._ So it was with a very few words and an almost silent agreement that we tangled our bodies that following evening, with mine on top, and Levi’s legs spread, waiting, eager for me to enter him so that he can wrap himself around my back. _This_ is what we need. Levi needs to give up the control, the responsibility, and the weight he carries as the protector and the carer; the person that keeps us afloat, the person that can provide; the only one that legally _can._ But he’s also wounded and his heart is fragile with self-doubts, while almost every action is a fight against his impaired senses. He needs to let go of it all, of this whole burden, and he just needs to be taken care of and reassured. I understand it perfectly as if these feelings were my own; he tells me wordlessly with the quaking of his body at my whispered praises, with the goose-bumps that follow my touch, or with the way his body uncoils and softens and relaxes under my hands. With the way he leans up whenever our chests aren’t touching, and wraps his arms around my shoulders, my neck, or the back of my head while I support him with one of my arms, holding him closer.

For my part, it’s not just being in control and keeping things going at my own pace; it surely is somewhat calming and comforting in a way – it’s impossible to just forget a year of this inhumane torture and regular, brutal rape. Even though I know for a fact that Levi would never hurt me, I can’t know my own mind for with equal certainty; can’t be sure what could possibly trigger a potential panic attack. Setting the pace myself takes some of that away; and there’s of course the warm realisation that Levi trusts me enough to take the lead. But for me, it’s mostly about being able to give him what he needs. The pleasure. The comfort and reassurance. The elation, the momentary freedom and release from the darkness that keeps him down; he can just let himself feel, not think. And I can give him that; the one thing he really needs that I can actually give him. I don’t have anything, there’s nothing that I can claim as really my own; so this is the only thing I can offer him, and I’m grateful and overjoyed at the ability to do so. It’s the perfect arrangement for both of us.

We complement one another so wonderfully; I’m definitely the more, well, talkative one in bed. Truth is, I just can’t stop it; when he smiles up at me or when his face contorts in pleasure – how can I refrain from praising him or telling him how much I love him, especially that now I _can?_ Levi, on the other hand, replies with the sweetest exhalations and most gorgeous whines, making the softest music for my words, so that together we create a beautiful symphony of ecstasy that echoes through the room.

Well, who would have thought I can be so cheesy and sappy? Maybe I’m just simply still overwhelmed that something so wonderful could have happened to me? Maybe I just still don’t know what to do with this vast amount of bubbly, joyous feeling of love that fills my heart and makes it spill over with this boundless emotion? It feels like an alternate, better state of being, and I can only wish to remain in that state for as long as possible.

And the most beautiful thing? We don’t simply crave physical pleasure; the key is the raw emotion and intimacy that we share at times like these, writhing together among the sheets – something much more profound and much more important than bodily satisfaction.

It’s like we’re newlyweds, and these few days are our little honeymoon; we devote almost all time to each other and very little studying, cleaning, or article-writing gets done. It’s bliss, but everything has to slowly come to an end – or at least cease in frequency. As the days continue to pass, we manage to keep our hands to ourselves – or rather, keep the touching at a level where it’s not overly distracting – until the evening, when we get to have our fill of the other again.

I dutifully keep my promise to pay extremely close attention to always wear my collar outside; I always put it on a good while before leaving the house, just in case I forget. Not that it would be easy to actually do; Levi wouldn’t be able to put the leash on me without it, and after months of doing so, it’s almost second nature to tilt my head and expose my neck to him for him to clasp it in place each time we get ready at the door. Initially, putting it back on after keeping it off for a few days gives me a mental whiplash, my mind somehow not keeping up; wanting to make my body curl in on itself in instinctual submission, but not understanding why it’s my own hands that are fastening the buckle. It gets easier with each time though, until I can do it without having some sort of momentary existential crisis.

Before I know it, it’s the middle of March and the days become significantly longer and the air during our walks in the park warmer. Still, Levi keeps wearing the scarf that I got him, insisting that he gets cold easily. Experiencing first-hand how his feet get cold every night even under the blankets, I can accept that as a reasonable excuse, but it still warms my heart that it’s _my_ gift that adorns his neck.

 

 

When one morning he announces that Hanji will be coming over for a quick dinner visit before taking us for bigger shopping to buy some lighter clothes for me, my stomach twists and my hands become sweaty in an instant. ‘Should I, um, should I wear- should I put the collar on before she arrives?’ That’s going to be one hell of an awkward situation, that’s for sure.

‘No need.’ He says confidently, searching for my hand until he finds it near his thigh and intertwines our fingers on the couch pillow between us. ‘Besides… Maybe it’d be a good opportunity to tell her that, you know, we’re- we’re together?’ My breath hitches audibly. ‘Are we not?’

‘W-we are, of course we are-! Just…’ _I’m your legal_ slave _. You’re a respectable scientist and I’m a_ creature _with no rights. We’re not exactly allowed to be together._ But I can’t bring myself to say any of those things. ‘What will she say?’ How can I not worry? Sure, Hanji is eccentric and open-minded, but everyone draws a line somewhere, right?

‘You’re really worried bout that?’ He asks as if I’m being somewhat unreasonable. ‘I’m sure we’re practically married in her mind anyway.’

‘W… Wai- What?’

‘What, you didn’t pick up on all the innuendos she threw our way?’ Levi gives a small laugh.

‘Eh… N-no? Not really?’ I’m still utterly confused.

‘Ah. Well, just trust me on this.’ He squeezes my hand tighter. ‘It’s going to be okay.’ Trust him. Of course. I trust him with my life, so I can trust him on something like this.

And of course, he’s right. When I greet Hanji in the doorway with a ‘hello’, she answers with some sort of victorious shout and a fist pump, followed by a hug – or more like a death grip – and some more shouting about ‘big changes’, before patting me on my _bare_ neck.

I feel more than slightly awkward at the sudden outburst when she finally leans away, just when Levi walks up and, as often these days, finds my hand and holds it tightly in his. Which doesn’t really help the furious blush on my cheeks over the entire situation, really; still, I squeeze back once, as always. But when I look up from the ground, I’m taken aback by the warmth and contentment in Hanji’s eyes, by her genuine smile, and not just her usual craziness. She looks between my throat and our joined hands for a few moments of heavy silence, before she embraces us both tightly again, gaining a surprised grunt from Levi.

‘I’m so happy for you guys.’ My heart stops for a moment as her words sink in while we’re still in her hold. I feel tears of gratitude prickle at my eyes; I haven’t realised how much I needed her approval until now. It’s not just Levi that treats me not only as a human, but as an equal person. Hanji trusted me with her best friend from the start, as his guide, and she trusts me now, as his lover. I blink a few times to not make myself look like a total cry-baby. Despite the hug starting to become awkwardly long, she doesn’t let go. ‘Glad the stick is out of your ass, Levi. Now you have room for nicer things, I’m sure.’

‘The fuck, four-eyes?!’ He shoves her back as she cackles; I can’t help but giggle a bit too, mainly at Levi’s reaction, even though the blush now burns at my cheeks full-force. And just like that, the fragile, emotional moment is gone, but the warmth of it remains with us for the rest of the day.

 

 

‘Do you want to have a little day out for your birthday?’

I jerk up from Armin’s chemistry book that I’m currently hunched over in the kitchen. ‘Hm, sorry?’

‘Day out. On your birthday. How does that sound?’ Levi walks out of his room and sits by the kitchen table in his usual spot.

Oh. My birthday. That’s in two days, right? How the time flies; it’s almost April. I lean my chin on my hand, facing Levi, giving him my full attention. Electron shells can wait. ‘I’ll be happy as long as we spend that day together. But yeah, a day out would be awesome… You had anything particular in mind?’

‘How ‘bout going for a movie? I know, lame, but that’s just a sug-’

‘ _Lame_?! Levi, I’ve never been to the cinema, I do hope you realise that.’ I laugh with a bit of awe in my voice at the thought of going to see the big screen. But then my mind catches up; that maybe Levi won’t actually enjoy going to a _movie_ , for obvious reasons. ‘But, uh…’ And obviously; how am I even supposed to phrase that? ‘You sure you wanna, uh…’

‘Yes, I want to go even though I’m blind, yes.’ He sighs with exasperation, but there’s no real annoyance in it. When he reaches for my face and ends up squeezing my nose lightly and calling me an idiot, I breathe out a sigh of relief that he really seems to be only amused by my pathetic attempts to not be insensitive. ‘Stop making it feel like- like an elephant in the room, for the love of God. You don’t have to tiptoe around it, you know? You can acknowledge that I’m blind; it’s not going to hurt my delicate princess feelings.’

He smirks, but I know he means it. And I know he’s right. Enough is enough; we’ve told each other some of our deepest secrets and most haunting insecurities, so why should this be an issue at this stage? Sighing, I reach for his face, cupping it gently and pressing my lips to his for the briefest moment. ‘You’re right. I’m- I’m sorry. For all the times I’ve done this.’

‘It’s alright. Just- let’s just move on, yeah?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’

‘So.’ He sits back, straightening his shoulders. ‘Movie night it is, then. Or, well, maybe movie _day._ I was thinking that, maybe in the afternoon, we could…’ I eagerly await his next ideas. ‘Maybe we could get your friend, Jean? Bring him over for the night like the last time? I spoke with Hanji; she could drive us there, and we could go for, say, a picnic, if the weather will be good enough.’

I nearly choke on air. That’s definitely the last thing I expected. A million thoughts run through my mind, most of them so tangled that they’re incoherent. Most of them bring subconscious pain, though; disgusting memories of abuse, brutal reminders of lost contact with Mikasa, Marco’s death, and Jean’s continuing suffering. It takes a moment for me to pull myself out of the dark turmoil enough to consider Levi’s suggestion. ‘But- I mean I’d-’ And of course, I’m torn again. Of course I’d love to have that poor horseface over. But how much will Levi have to pay for that, _again_?

‘Come on, Eren. I know what you’re thinking. If we didn’t have enough money I wouldn’t have suggested it.’ If _we_ didn’t… As if I contribute to this household in any useful way. ‘So, is it decided?’

How can I say no? Why would I ever want to?

 

 

The 30th finally arrives, and it starts off heavenly. I wake up in the best way possible; slowly drifting into consciousness to Levi’s warm lips moving slowly against my own. Feeling myself smile, I lazily kiss him back before I’m even fully awake. My still-hazy mind rejoices at the contact, wondering whether we could spend the whole day like this, movie and Jean be damned. But to my utter disappointment, Levi seems to be having different ideas, and all too soon he pulls back. A pitiful whine escapes past my lips.

‘Happy birthday, you needy little thing.’ He smiles his tiny, soft smile before placing a last peck on my lips, turning my insides to mush as always. ‘Now, relax, okay? Close your eyes and relax. I’ll give you a massage, sounds good?’

Surprise is evident in my voice, but I still smile; anything to have Levi close. ‘Really?’

He absentmindedly traces his fingers over my shoulders as he straddles my hips. ‘Yeah, I like to think I know a thing or two.’

I huff. ‘Wha- you like to _think_ you-?’

I don’t get to finish my sentence as he tickles my side briefly, making me yelp and squirm underneath him. ‘Ey, don’t make fun of me.’ If I didn’t know him better – a few months back – I would have missed the concealed mirth in his eyes and thought he’s genuinely reprimanding me. I sigh contentedly as he already starts slowly kneading my biceps. ‘As long as I don’t twist your spine or mistake your forearm for your dick, I think we’re good.’

 _The elephant in the room is gone indeed._ I allow myself to laugh, not allowing the sadness that always accompanies drawing attention to his blindness take over.

As Levi works on my body, it turns out that he’s actually really good – better than me, most likely – and he now turns both my insides and outsides, too, into mush. I’m in such a deep state of relaxation that I feel like my soul could genuinely float away from my body. It feels like forever and no time at all before Levi pulls off my pyjama bottoms and massages my thighs. Another infinity passes in an instant, and his hands are on my shaft, squeezing and stroking slowly, using my precome as lube – when did I even get hard? I’m only aware of it now, but once I am, the arousal builds up quickly until I’m a groaning, strangely over-relaxed mess bucking into Levi’s hand. Spreading my thighs wider for him, I guide his hand to my entrance, hoping he’ll get the hint that I want him inside me this time, because words really won’t be happening right now. He seems to understand, and soon he’s working me open with slick fingers – using proper lube that we actually got from a store and not concocted up ourselves. When he finally enters me, it’s pure bliss. The stretch is a delicious combination with the rest of my body is relaxed. As always, Levi holds me close and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He thrusts slowly into me, deep and deliberate as I whimper and gasp by his ear. Both his and my skin feel damp with sweat as Levi’s movements become more erratic and desperate, while he strokes my length along to the faltering rhythm of his hips. Levi comes first with a heavy groan, but his warm seed deep inside me and his gorgeous expression bring me to completion just seconds after him. He pulls out carefully once we both catch our breath, and collapses at my side with his head on my chest, and I couldn’t be happier that he won’t mind laying in bed for a few extra minutes despite the mess and our clear need for a shower.

If that’s not the best way to start a day, then I don’t know what is. ‘Well, aren’t I a lucky birthday boy.’

I feel him smile against my skin.

 

 

Surprisingly, the next part of celebrations comes before we go to the movie; not long after breakfast there’s a knock on the door.

‘Can you get that, Eren?’ Levi calls from the living room.

Well, that must be Hanji, then. Is she picking us up a bit earlier? Or maybe she’s going to the cinema with us? That’d be fun, but I can’t help but wish that we could spend that afternoon alone, just the two of us. Well, as alone as you can be in a movie theatre, I suppose.

When I unlock and swing the door open, though, it feels like a bucket of ice water over my head. The shock makes me freeze. ‘Delivery for Eren, uh, Eren Jäger?’

I can’t shake myself out of my stupor. Cold sweat breaks out all over my skin as my wide eyes take in the short, burly postman in front of me. I’m too terrified to take a breath, and my heart seems to have stopped. _The collar_. I’m not wearing it. I’m not wearing the fucking collar and we’re both in danger because of my fucking stupidity-

‘You alright there, pal?’ The man tilts his head and I panic even more, knowing my behaviour is suspicious. But then he looks over to the bouquet he’s holding in his hand with a soft, almost wistful expression. ‘Ah, they’re beautiful, aren’t they? Really original, too. Not your standard roses. Alright, here.’ He pushes the flowers towards me, but I still haven’t moved. ‘Got lots of deliveries today, so please just take them now and I’ll be on my way.’ He shakes the bouquet a little, and I finally force my limbs to move as I take it from him. He whips out a clipboard from an inner pocket of his jacket. ‘And please just sign here.’

All I want to do at that moment is slam the door in his face, curl up on the floor and weep. Sign it? _Sign_ _it_? God, am I allowed? My name doesn’t mean anything. But he’s not letting me go unless I do it, so with a shaky hand, I take the pen from him and scribble my name in the box he points at, making it as illegible as possible.

‘Great. Have a nice day, lad.’ He waves, his smile wavering a little, seeing as I’m not returning his pleasantries, before turning away and trotting down the stairs.

I stand there in the doorway for a while longer, staring off into space still in utter shock and terror. In a brief moment of clarity, I manage to step back in and slam the door shut, locking it and leaning against it. ‘L…Le- Le- Levi…!’ My own shaky and panicked wail sends a chill down my spine.

Hurried footsteps echo through the apartment until Levi is within my field of vision. ‘Eren?! Christ, what happened, what’s going on?’ He reaches an arm towards me but I don’t meet him half way, still trembling.

‘He saw me. He saw me. The postman, he saw me. Without the collar. And he- he made me sign. The delivery. Oh God, Levi, a-are we in danger? I… Oh God, I’m so sorry, I- I thought it was Hanji- Oh God…’

‘Oh.’ Levi sighs, perfectly calm despite the situation. ‘It’s the flowers, isn’t it? Don’t worry, Eren- Come here, come on.’ He keeps his arm outstretched and walks up closer to me. I meet his hand this time, and allow him to pull me into an embrace, keeping the flowers out of the way. ‘It’s okay. Don’t cry, Eren, there’s no need to.’ What is he saying? Does he not realise what happened? Still, his gentle strokes through my hair and the steady beating of his heart have a calming effect. ‘He’s not a policeman, he didn’t ask for your ID.’ I shiver, remembering the few times that police stopped us outside, asking for Levi’s ID – for the purpose of patrolling, and keeping the area ‘safe’, they said – as well as proof of my purchase and of Levi’s ownership over me, that I didn’t even knew he carried or even had. ‘That man has no idea who you are. He doesn’t know if you’re- He doesn’t know your legal standing. Doesn’t know if you need to wear a collar or not. Do you have any idea how many people he sees a day, a week? He doesn’t have time to stare at your neck; he was probably just thinking of the moment his shift is over and he can go back home and watch some TV.’

I process his words slowly. He does seem to be actually making sense with his argument. ‘Well… W-when you put it like that…’

‘Really, it’s okay. Now, don’t cry; not fit for the birthday boy to have tears on his face, is it?’

Sniffing, I wipe at my damp eyes and give a small laugh. ‘Y-you got me flowers, though.’

‘Looks like I did.’

Hearing the smile in his voice, I laugh again; this time with genuine happiness and relief. Leaning back, I finally let myself appreciate the beauty of the gift. That man was certainly right; it definitely _is_ very original; large, proud, fresh white marguerites make up the centre of the bouquet, surrounded by a row of red poppy flowers, bursting with colour. The outer layer is made up of a gentle, blue fuzz of small forget-me-nots, their little petals and leaves tickling my hand as I hold it. Field flowers. Not pompous roses with their intimidating beauty, but fragile, gentle and genuine field flowers that feel like a small piece of sunshine in your grasp. Like a piece of freedom.

‘How’d… how did you know I love forget-me-nots?’

‘Hm. Maybe I’m just giving you some hints with the name.’

That makes me laugh out loud, fondness hammering inside my chest warmly. ‘They’re gorgeous. Thank you so much, Levi.’

 

 

Overwhelming – that’s the best-fitting word I can come up with for it. Overwhelming, yet oddly enough, not terrifying.

The cinema is an attack on all senses; the moment we walk in through the large glass door, I’m dazed. The place is enormous but every inch of it is buzzing with life. Blue neon lights seem to be the theme and for a moment they’re almost hurting my eyes but I adjust quickly. The air smells of greasy food, which comes as a surprise to me in a place like this, but I decide that it’s actually a quite inviting aroma – even though it’s so heavy it feels like something physical sticking to my face and in my nose. Some sort of quick, upbeat music is playing from the speakers that I can’t actually locate, but really, it feels like few different songs playing at once; maybe different ones from different sources. Not that I can hear much of it anyway; the dynamic but incoherent buzz of ever-present chattering and conversations drowns the music out. People. They’re everywhere. Milling about in small groups, pairs, or by themselves, queueing up at different locations, or just walking up or down the stairs. Naturally, my instincts immediately put me on edge, but as I take a moment to look around rationally, I start to realise they’re not taking any notice of us; they’re busy with their own business, not with staring at two of many other strangers that just walked in, even if one of them is on a leash; they’re just not noticing. That, and there’s actually a pleasant, cheery atmosphere in the building that takes me aback the instant I realise it; groups of people are not something I associate with good things. And yet, here they are; friends talking excitedly, laughing _together_ – not _at_ someone. People of all ages, enjoying their time so _innocently_ – not at someone else’s cost. Not hurting anyone. I feel myself relaxing somewhat.

Levi gives my hand a quick squeeze, and I return the gesture once in return, smiling at how this became our thing, our silent communication since the visit to the doctor.

‘Is there some sort of movie listing somewhere?’

Glancing around, I spot a bunch of posters on a large square pillar. ‘There are some posters over there.’

I guide him gently by the elbow, keeping myself as close to his body as possible, trying to hide the thin leash between our bodies and out of sight. ‘See anything that you like?’

Studying the framed pictures, I give a thoughtful hum, nothing really catching my eye. That’s until I spot the familiar cartoon characters and scenery, and can’t stop a surprised gasp of excitement.

‘Hm? What is it?’

‘Oh, it’s uh- um…’ I laugh sheepishly, feeling stupid all of a sudden. How embarrassing is it for someone who just became an adult to get hyped over a kids’ movie? Even worse – a movie that would probably be more for _girls_? ‘Just, uh- Didn’t know _Anastasia_ was an- an animated film. My mom bought Mikasa and me a picture book of that when we were kids… It was one of the few things she could buy for us, so I really loved it. She’d read it to me often. I remember I had a crush on Dimitri.’ I feel myself smile and giggle at the fond memories.

‘Kid, _everyone_ had a crush on Dimitri.’ He huffs.

‘You watched it?!’ That’s definitely what I expected.

‘Yeah. Many years ago. Wanna go see that then?’

‘Yeah! I mean, uh… You sure? I mean- It’s a kids’s movie. And all cheesy and romantic…’

Levi huffs with a little impatience, but not annoyance. ‘It’s a good work of art. Just because it’s animated doesn’t mean it has to be for kids only. Besides, I’m fond of the music in that movie. And most of all, I want you to enjoy yourself. So come on, walk us over and we’ll get the tickets.’

Shaking my head with a bit of disbelief, I guide us to the queue to the tickets. And that’s when it slowly starts. That’s when the waiting people start to notice that I’m not _normal_ like them; that there’s a leash hanging from a collar on my neck, not hidden anymore by a scarf in the warm spring weather. That’s when they start to murmur to each other, looking our way, shaking their heads. A young teenager even points at us and laughs to his friends. And the worst part is that I can’t do anything, and neither can Levi. We have to keep playing the roles of an obedient slave and a cold master to not draw further attention to ourselves or cause a scene. So I accept and bear it, moving in the queue slowly with a bowed head. Levi might have given me my dignity and sense of self-worth back, but I’m not allowed to use it; no matter how much I want to keep my head high, confident with my lover beside me, I can’t.

The cashier doesn’t question us, even though there is poorly-hidden surprise and a touch of distaste in her voice. When we make our way to the food stands to get soft drinks and popcorn – the source of that greasy smell, I find out – the guy serving us doesn’t even spare a glance in our direction, his gaze utterly bored and unfocused, as if he is drunk, desperate to just go home and sleep, or both. The real trouble seems to start when we approach the man standing at the bottom of the stairs, checking tickets.

‘Um, excuse me, sir, but your… _companion_ …’

Levi sighs, rolling his shoulders and straightening his back, meanwhile I keep my head down, eyes fixed on the floor, trying to make myself look as small, obedient, and non-provocative as possible – just to have this over with quickly. Levi fully expected that, and he prepared me for what might happen and what he might have to say, but my skin still crawls when I hear his authoritative and intimidating voice; a tone that I haven’t heard in so long – perhaps only when he was buying me. ‘What about him.’

The bald man shifts his weight from one foot to the other. ‘Well, it’s- That’s not really allowed by our rules.’ He sounds uncertain, as if he doesn’t even know what the rules of this place _are._

‘Does this place allow service dogs.’ His voice is hollow. I grit my teeth.

‘Excuse me?’

He doesn’t hide his annoyance in the way he exhales. ‘I said, do you allow in service dogs.’

‘W-well, yes-’

‘I’m visually impaired. He’s my guide dog. And he’s going to cause no trouble and behave impeccably. Won’t you?’

I shrink in on myself further, reminding myself he’s doing it just for show. My answer is a quiet, submissive whimper. ‘Yes, master.’ 

‘There you go. He’ll behave, and I’ve paid for both of us. What else do you want.’ The annoyance radiating off of him makes me tremble.

The tall man sighs, defeated. ‘Nothing. Please go ahead, sir.’

We walk away without another word.

As I guide us through smaller corridors leading to individual rooms, it gets quieter, so I allow myself to lift my head up. Levi must pick up on the fading human chattering. His tone is still a quiet whisper. ‘Eren?’

Looking around to make sure that there’s nobody around, I answer him just a tad louder to let him know there is no strict need for whispering. ‘Yeah?’

‘I’m… I’m sorry. For those disgusting things I’ve said back there…’

His genuine guilt surprises me somehow; we’ve talked through this earlier in the day, and we’ve established that this sort of thing might be required. ‘Levi. Don’t worry about it, okay? We’ve been through this, right? I know it was necessary. I know you didn’t mean it.’

‘I still feel like a disgusting traitor, after saying all that.’

‘Hey.’ I run my thumb over the top of his hand where we hold each other. ‘That was just a little bump in our day. Let’s still enjoy the rest of it?’

That finally puts that small, soft smile on his face that I’ve come to adore so much. ‘Alright. Make sure to choose a seat a bit more to the back, yeah? Where there aren’t any people around.’ He instructs me as we resume our walk down the hall.

‘So that we can hold hands? Like on a date?’

‘Yeah. Like on a date.’ I grin when he laughs, making my heart flutter softly.

Just like I’ve been told, I bring us almost to the very back of the room, walking slowly up the stairs so that Levi wouldn’t trip. Even though more people arrive over the extra half an hour of waiting, our lucky stars smile at us and the room still isn’t even a quarter full when the movie starts. Well, the advertisements anyway. As soon as the lights are switched off, Levi leans into my arm, holding onto it and nuzzling into it, making himself comfortable. My heart seizes up as I watch his face, watch the light from the impossibly large screen reflect from his unfocused eyes. The strange, overwhelming – but by now familiar – mix of bitterness and love fills me yet again; he can’t experience this outing fully, and yet here we are, just so that _I_ can get a taste of something different, something new. I run my knuckles over his cheek with reverence and awe, still having trouble with believing that I can call this man _my lover_.

‘I love you so much, you know that?’ I murmur to him, under the cover of loud noises coming from the speakers.

It’s incredible how rapidly his cheeks heat up. ‘I love you, too.’

Resting my head on top of his where it leans against me, I turn my eyes to the screen. Soon, the advertisement clips are over, and the screen fills with sceneries and characters which are so very familiar, and yet I remember them as if through a fog. It’s been so many years since I was that happy, carefree child, sitting in my mother’s lap or buried under the blankets, waiting for a bedtime story.

No. This isn’t the time for that.

Levi brought me here to enjoy myself, and I will. So I forcefully push those thoughts to the back of my mind, and let myself be drawn into the magic unfolding in front of me. My wide eyes take in the pictures from my book coming to life. Moving. Breathing. Talking. Dancing to the music that fits so perfectly and tugs at my heartstrings – I now know what Levi had meant. I’m filled with more and more wonder with each passing minute, and at some point I catch myself staring with my mouth open. It’s the human mind, heart and hand that created each of these movements; each fold of Anastasia’s dress as she dances, every flick of Dimitri’s hair, and every wave on the dark sea. It’s gorgeous art, just as Levi said, and an unbeatable evidence and an example that the human hand is capable of creating something so gorgeous. It doesn’t always intend to hurt people. There are people out there who just want to fill the world with beautiful things.

I marvel at the complexity of the story and the characters’ relationships; so much more detailed than what was in my book. The small and so very human teasing between the main couple makes me smile, obviously making me think of Levi and I. Especially in the later parts, where Dimitri is so desperate to help his love; but compared to him, Levi has always been selfless in what he did for me, from the very start. And yet it still feels familiar; he finds himself a stray and helps it find itself in the civilised world, falling in love in the process. Just a shame that it’ll never turn out that I’ve been a prince all along, and won’t be able to give Levi all the riches he deserves. I won’t even be able to be a real partner for him; not beyond his apartment door. What we have now is the ‘happiest’ ever after that we’re entitled to.

All too soon, the movie draws to a close, finishing off with the heartfelt yet hopeful farewell, that always left my chubby infant face in tears. Apparently, this time is no different, and as the lights come back on during the credits, I catch myself sniffling.

‘Touching, wasn’t it?’ I feel like there’s the tiniest hint of teasing in his voice.

‘Mm…’ I can’t help but frown, feeling really stupid and frustrated with myself. ‘Leviii.’ I draw out his name, not sure why; it’s only making me sound more whiny. ‘’M sorry, for being always like this, like-’

‘What? Like what?’

‘Like- I’m literally always crying over everything. It’s annoying. Even for me.’ My words are quiet, even though there is enough noise in the room with the ending song and the noises of people leaving.

Levi sighs, snuggling back into my arm. ‘You really think this is a problem? Come on.’ He’s silent for a moment. ‘Sometimes we just… feel. A lot. I think it’s good to feel things. Makes you human.’ He hums thoughtfully, shrugging. ‘Sometimes you have to give a release to that. Sometimes you shout. Sometimes you cry. So, you know, Eren, as long as it’s not actual deep grief that makes you cry, it’s okay, and why should it annoy me?’

‘Why… why do you have to be always right? Why are you so wise, like, always?’

He laughs lightly against my arm. ‘I’m old. That kind of stuff comes with age. I guess?’

I push at his shoulder lightly in a fake reprimand. ‘Stoooop that, stop saying you’re old cause you’re not!’

‘Mm. You’re just trying to make feel better because I’m not as cool as Dimitri.’ He deadpans, folding up the empty popcorn box.

I keep the teasing going. ‘Don’t worry, no one is as cool as him. My crush on him is definitely back though, after seeing the movie.’

‘Don’t ever talk to me again.’

Laughing lightly, I finally make a move to stand up and Levi follows suit. Once again, I can’t help but marvel at how far I’ve come – how far _we’ve_ come. How amazing is it that we can joke like that, and that I don’t have to fear that perhaps he actually got offended? Still; even though we both know it was a joke, I can’t refrain from pulling him into a brief hug once the last couple leaves the large room, and murmuring into his hair – as if to make sure he knows it was just a tease. ‘I could never love any man more than I love you.’

‘You- Tch, you said the cheesiest things, kid.’

Still, I don’t miss the light dust of pink on his cheeks.

We make our way outside to wait for Hanji without any problems; we do get some stares, some frowns, and some whispers, but that’s about it. No one stops or bothers us. We wait by the entrance for a good few minutes, and while it isn’t cold and the city is pleasant to look at as it glows in the setting sun, it’s still a shame that I have to keep my distance from Levi and my head down, keeping up with the public image of the perfect slave again.

Finally, the bubbly woman arrives in her small, grey car and as soon as we hop in the back seat, she’s excitedly shouting birthday wishes at me, dangerously turning over in her seat. She only cackles when Levi groans at her to ‘watch the fucking road’ – which were my thoughts exactly – so in the end we manage to get out of the busy city centre without getting into an accident in its dense traffic.

I look out the window during the small trip, watching the buildings pass by. I grab onto the feeling of tranquillity that it gives me, combined with the recollections of all the pleasant things Levi and I have done today; anything to keep the anxiety down. _I’m going back to that place, after so many months_. It makes me uneasy, but I try to reason with myself; I won’t be staying there, and I can survive a little discomfort for the sake of my friend.

The parking lot is quite empty when we arrive, which isn’t surprising at this time of the afternoon; there are only a few other cars scattered around, as well as a large garbage truck that’s slowly makes its way towards the long line of bins in the back. I stare at it, distracting myself, until the sound of Hanji unbuckling her seatbelt snaps me back the present.

‘Hanji, wait.’

‘Hm?’ The woman looks in the rear mirror to glance at Levi who’s broken the silence that built up.

‘Eren, do you…’ He starts, kind of half-turning his body towards me, but his eyes are turned somewhere to the side. ‘Do you want to go in there this time? I’ll go with you.’

My heart stops for a moment and I don’t breathe. I hadn’t _consciously_ considered it at all, and yet it feels as if I’ve somewhat expected that question in my bones. And I know what he’s asking; he’s not just suggesting I walk in through that door and pick Jean up myself – he’s asking me if I’m ready. If I’m capable of facing the single, key source of abuse and trauma that I might be learning to control, but one that still haunts me and perhaps always will. He’s giving me a choice; either to stay in safety, or to take the risk and progress. I know which one I _should_ pick, I know what I _need_ , even if I might not want to; because truth is, my palms are already sweaty and shaking. But at the same time, I also know that whatever I choose, Levi will support me; I know he’ll accept whatever I choose without judgement.

It is with that thought in mind and with the comfort and reassurance that it gives me, that I make my decision. ‘Y-yeah. Okay. Okay. I’ll… Let’s, uh. Let’s go, then.’

Levi exhales slowly, his hand finding my knee and squeezing it slightly. ‘I’m proud of you.’

I don’t have an answer, already feeling light-headed from adrenaline. Hanji is silent, too, as she remains in the car. My own legs feel a bit like jelly once I step out, but I force myself to stand up straight through sheer determination; I have Levi beside me, and I’m doing this to help Jean. So I walk up to Levi, handing him back my leash, and we make our way towards the building.

The red neon sign ‘Titan Club’ – a ridiculous name, if you ask me – looms above the entrance. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke hits me square in the face as soon as we step inside. Looking around, I see that the first floor really just seems like a relatively civilised bar; no young collared boys sitting in old men’s laps and no naked slaves tied to hooks in the ceilings. It takes me a moment to locate the stairway that leads to the basement and I tense up seeing the muscular, intimidating guard standing by the open door. Licking my lips, I silently guide Levi along, not really having any plan in mind. How does it work, can we just go downstairs, or do people require some sort of pass? I briefly wonder how Hanji got in the last time. But that’s when I lock eyes with the terrifying guard, and there’s a momentary look of surprise and recognition in his gaze when he sees me. He doesn’t say anything and lets us pass.

I hold Levi’s arm securely, quietly letting him know we’re about to walk downstairs. He holds onto me as we walk through a dark corridor, meeting two more guards along the way who don’t stop us either. My stomach surges up to my chest when the overly-familiar, ridiculously normal-looking reception desk comes into view, my throat foolishly trying to swallow down an obstruction that isn’t there. I don’t let myself look around the corner, look at the slaves and the filthy customers. Blood rushes in my ears as I spot _him_ sitting at the desk, the embodiment of the devil himself. That’s when I feel the gentlest tug on my collar that brings me back to reality once more. Levi reminds me of his presence, calming me down; as always knowing exactly what I need.

I bring us right to the desk and our shadows make Keith look up from his phone. He freezes momentarily when he sees me, before his expression changes to something more amused and sadistic as he slowly stands up, looming over us.

‘Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.’ He laughs, that disgusting sound bringing back so many memories at once, but I stand my ground as he fixes me with a deadly stare. I meet his eyes, determined to never be cowed into submission by him again. I don’t have to pretend to be the perfect toy; not here. Not in front of him. ‘Never thought I’d be seeing your pathetic mug again, Jäger. How have you been, my darling?’

Just as I’m about to growl some profanities at him, Levi speaks up, his voice clear and confident. ‘We’re here for a specific slave to rent for the night. Jean Kirschtein.’

Keith frowns for a fraction of a second, but then he looks away from Levi’s face and fixes me with a glare once more, his mouth distorting into a disgusting grin. Something dark and dangerous lurks in his eyes. ‘Are you, now.’

Sweat beads up on my forehead. Something is wrong; my instincts are screaming at me to run as my stomach twists. I just want to grab Jean and get the hell out of here. I don’t let my voice waver as I spit words back at him. ‘Yeah. So just bring him here.’

He stares at me for a while longer before he huffs a small laugh, his mouth now just forming a small, evil smirk as he seemingly studies and shuffles through some documents on his desk. ‘Can’t do. Jean’s not available.’

I feel cold sweat run down my back. ‘Why not.’ I try to sound as stern and demanding as possible.

‘He’s not here anymore.’ My mouth goes dry. Thousands of thoughts run through my head, and my mind tries to desperately grab at something hopeful; _he’s been freed, by whatever means. He ran away. Or at least, he’s been bought by a kind master. He doesn’t have to endure the abuse here anymore_. ‘I can bring some other slaves for you to have a _look_ at if one toy really isn’t enough for you, Mr… Ackerman, was it?’

In a moment of violent rage, I lean over the desk and grab Keith’s sweater, pulling him to my face as I growl at him. ‘Where the _fuck_ is Jean?!’

He pushes me back and straightens his clothes. I think I hear Levi say my name, but it seems far away. All I’m focused on at the moment is Keith’s vicious cursing. ‘Hands off of me, you dirty fucking cunt. Your dear horseface is expired.’

Expired.

 _Expired_.

I have no control over my own body or my words. I’m merely a spectator, only partially aware of what’s happening. ‘W… What? How did-’

‘Jean Kirschtein is fucking dead, alright? Get that through into your thick skull.’ Keith sits back down, still glaring at me with a frown. ‘His wounds got infected, and one day he didn’t come back from the solitary. Happy? Story time over. Now get the fuck out of here, I don’t want to see your goddamn face here again.’

It feels as if my body is floating; or maybe I’m collapsing and half way to the floor? Keith’s face is still in front of mine, though. At least I think so. There must be wool in my mouth, but I force words through it. ‘Where. Where is he buried.’

A loud laughter is not what I expected in response. ‘You’re a funny guy, I’ll give you that. Either this, or you’re completely out of touch with reality. Fine. He’s out in the back. We threw him out just two or three days ago, so he might still be there.’

My vision sways dangerously. ‘T… the back?’

‘The fucking _bins,_ moron! Now get lost, I won’t say it again!’

Images rush past me and I feel my body move. I’m running. There’s a voice that I dimly recognise; a voice that calls out my name behind me, but I don’t stop to dwell on it.

_I run. I run till my lungs give out and my ligaments tear. Too slow. I run. I always run._

Pushing through the mass of bodies on the ground floor is difficult; I hear shouting, but no one is either too fast or bothered enough to stop me.

_My panic slows me down. The sluggish, disgusting fear of being chased crawls up my neck, worms itself through my ribs, wrenching helpless and desperate sobs out of my lungs, weakening them further._

Finally, I burst through the door and find myself outside in the parking lot. My panicked eyes scan the surroundings for a split second until they fall on the orange garbage truck on the other end of the lot. I sprint off again, towards the bins. Some remaining coherent part of my mind pleads and prays that it’s just a morbid joke. I run until I can smell the rotting trash, until I can hear the conversation of the two men loading the last bin in the row into the back of the truck.

_And the same always follows; I trip over my own feet, or maybe over the uneven path with its ragged bumps. Whatever it is, I fall. I always fall, and I always fail._

The pain in my knees doesn’t register. I look up in time to see a single black bag catching on the bin lid. It doesn’t fall into the truck; instead, it tears as the mechanism stands the container back down on the ground, its contents flying through the air, dropping in front of me.

Tissues. Milk cartons. Rotting food. Beer cans.

A human head. Two severed forearms.

It’s just a morbid joke. Jean will walk out any minute, cold and shivering, but still laughing at me for sitting in a heap of rubbish.

Except that he won’t.

He faces me from the ground, his eyes closed, his skin an ashen, pale mixture of grey and blue. Moisture covers his skin; be it his own bodily fluids, or from garbage, of from both – I’m not sure. Splotches of decaying food mat down his dirty blond hair, his cheeks, his chin, right down to his evenly cut neck. His arms are in a similar condition. I recognise his left hand with its poorly healed index fingernail after Keith pulled it out as a punishment for helping me and then fed me it. His right forearm is splayed a bit further, but I can make out the distinctive red elastic band around his wrist; an indication and a heads-up to ‘staff’ about a slave’s bad behaviour – something which I wore many times before myself. Is this what happened? Were the wounds caused by punishment? Was he misbehaving because he got a taste of freedom for one night? Have _I,_ indirectly, killed him?

Please. Just fucking tell me it’s a morbid joke.

In a painful flash, I come back to my senses. My knees throb. The disgusting smell of both old trash and what must be rotting flesh fills my nose and sits heavily on my tongue. I gag from it. There are voices around me. The two men. Levi. Hanji. Surrounding me, getting closer. I can’t stand it, none of it.  

With a rush of adrenaline, I get to my feet, feeling like a panicked, rabid, and cornered animal, with four people approaching me cautiously from both sides. A scream echoes off the surrounding brick walls then; blood-curdling shrieking of a paranoid lunatic, a hysterical madman. It’s only when my throat starts to hurt that I realise it’s me who’s yelling.

‘Stay away! Stay _away_! STAY AWAY!!’ My eyes frantically dart between the two pairs, all my fight or flight instincts firing off at full force, blindly. They’re frozen now, watching me warily, as if I’m a wild beast and about to pounce on them. I’m on such high alert that I wouldn’t put it past myself now. I’m aware of everything, but not in control at all. There is only some primal instinct to not let anyone close to my friend. But what good will it do him now? _He’s dead._ The tiniest movement on my right makes my head snap back towards the garbage truck driver and his companion. ‘Don’t come near me! Get _away_!!’

Finally, I see them take a step back with frowns and looks of disgust on their faces. And finally, they turn around and leave, the truck engine noise throbbing in my head as it fades away.

‘Eren…’

I turn my head to Levi whose arm is outstretched as he takes a step towards me. ‘STOP! Get back! Sta- Stay away!!’

I don’t know why I’m screaming at him; the hysteria makes me feverish, irrational. I simply don’t know what to do with the overwhelming grief sloshing inside me like dark ice water. Nothing has changed; I can’t save anyone. My mother died right in front of my eyes as I sat there, helpless. I couldn’t keep Mikasa safe. I couldn’t save Marco, or any of the other boys and men in this house of evil. I couldn’t save Jean; my friend who has helped me so many times in that dark place. For a brief moment, with Levi’s help, I’ve let myself believe that the world isn’t as fucked up as it always seemed. Ironically, I was blind, too. But now, my eyes are open again; I’m still as useless as ever, and this world is hell. It has always been and always will be.

So I scream. Scream until I become hoarse and fall back to my knees. Scream until I have no strength anymore, and the yelling dies off into croaked sobs. ‘L… Levi. Oh. Oh, God. Please. Please. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.’

My snivelling is beyond pathetic, but Levi is the one person that never fails me; he hurries over to me cautiously, arms outstretched before he finds my slumped body and kneels beside me. I let him pull me into a tight embrace, which makes me cry even harder. He’s always there to comfort me, to support me. Jean had nobody. While Levi held me close under the sheets as we slept in warmth and comfort, he was taking his last breaths. How long was he in the solitary, on the brink of death, alone? What hurts the most is the nagging guilt; I _could_ have prevented his death. If we only came earlier. Just a couple of days would be enough. We could tend to his injuries, feed him, give him medicine. He could have survived.

I grip Levi’s elbow tight, tears drenching my face silently now. Everything becomes quiet to the point that I hear the quiet flapping of Levi’s jacket in the wind. It’s so quiet, almost peaceful. Hanji’s steps echo in the parking lot as she approaches us and squats beside us with a blanket. With the corner of my eye, I watch her expressionless face as she picks up Jean’s severed limbs and head and wraps it in the thick cloth that was brought for him. I squeeze my eyes shut, her touch against the dead, damp, decaying skin causing me phantom pain.

It’s strange. Levi pulls me to my feet, and this time it’s him who guides me back to the car, following the sound of Hanji’s shoes. My body and mind is exhausted to the point where he could lead me anywhere; he could leave me in the middle of the road and I would not protest. I feel so strangely numb and empty when we get in the vehicle, Levi and I in the back, and Jean, or what’s left of him, wrapped up on the front passenger seat. No one speaks; we drive off in complete silence. Where are we even going? Have they spoken when I was throwing my tantrum? Or do they understand each other without words? Truth is, I don’t really care; my eyes are fixated on the beige blanket lump on the front seat. This is it. This is him. That’s all that’s left of him. The rest of his chopped-up body will end up in a landfill, decaying in disgrace among the rubbish he was thrown out with. Bile rises up in my throat. They cut him up, in cold blood, without any kind of remorse, without an ounce of respect for death. They _threw him out_ as if he was a piece of garbage. That’s what he was to them though, wasn’t it? That’s what we all are to them. All of them who died, who _expired_ ; they all ended up like this, didn’t they?

I’ve lost all track of time, the only indication of it passing being the sun’s disappearance behind the horizon and the darkness of the approaching night. It’s almost fully dark outside and my body aches from lack of movement by the time the car stops. Dejectedly, I lift my head to study my surroundings. I frown, seeing small shrubs, sand, and patches of tall grass surround the car. I follow both Levi and Hanji as they silently step out of the car. I sink slightly into the soft sand, noticing the dark body of water few tens of metres away, stretching towards the horizon, with the shore becoming more rocky to the right.

_Then Kenny drove us to the seaside, and we released her body into the water. We didn’t have anywhere to bury her. He said that she’d be safe there, no one would ever touch her again._

My heart skips a beat at the possible realisation as to why we’re here. Hanji confirms it when she walks up to me and hands me Jean’s remains without looking me in the eye. I take the blanket from her, so disgustingly light in my arms, despite containing part of a person. This time it’s the woman that takes Levi under his arm, guiding him towards the rocky area. I follow them without a word, and I’m grateful for their silence.

We walk slowly through the evening darkness, Hanji leading the way, navigating through only flat rocks until she finds a spot, right by the water surface. Has she been here before? Did she bring Levi here to visit his mother?

Once we stop, she turns to me, as if wordlessly telling me to say my goodbyes and do what’s necessary. My breath quickens, and suddenly I become very cold. My hands tremble and my eyes grow heavy with unshed tears once more. I have to do it. I have to let him go. Have to set him free. But _God_ , it hurts. Taking a small step forward, I crouch by the small ripples that caress the surface of the rock, their delicacy concealing the surely deadly, black and cold depths. I don’t have the strength to hate myself for letting tears fall down my cheeks again as I pull away the blanket to get one last look at his face, as my own contorts with silent sobbing. That face, which was the first source of comfort when I’ve been thrown into the brutal reality of slavery. That cocky grin and foul mouth hiding the fragility, youthfulness, and the desire for normal life or at least some comfort. That face, so alive. He barely resembles himself now. This is just a shadow of him, just a shell of my friend. But it’s still so hard to let it go; to let go of the last trace I have of him. I blink water out of my eyes, committing his features to memory. With a hammering and heavy heart, I wrap the fabric back around him and slowly lower him into the water.

_I’m sorry, Jean. Forgive me. But I won’t let you be forgotten. I won’t let your death be meaningless. I’ll do what you’ve asked of me. Don’t know how, but I’ll find a way._

I let him go with a gentle push. With dread and terror, I watch the blanket darkening, soaking up water, growing heavy.

_Please don’t go…_

Finally, gravity pulls him under the surface. Never to be seen again.

My lip trembles, my entire jaw aching oddly from uselessly trying to hold back the tears which rain down anyway. I stare at the spot where he disappeared, as if hoping he will resurface. He never does. Still, I can’t force myself to budge, fearing that anything will trigger the ugly sob that sits deep in my chest.

A hand on my shoulder does just that; it startles me, and the awful sound escapes my throat. ‘He’s free now, you know. He’s not suffering anymore.’ Levi’s quiet words only force a fresh wave of tears out of me, even though they were meant to be comforting. Of course, he’s right; but why must have death been the only escape route from the pain and the abuse? What did he do to deserve such an end? ‘He’s probably with your mother now, and she’s telling him all the embarrassing kid stories of you.’

That forces a tearful laugh out of me, but it’s very short-lived. I can’t not appreciate Levi’s cautious attempts of comfort, as odd as they might be, but the pain remains unbearable. ‘’M… I’m losing everyone th- that ever mattered to me. What if. What if one day I’ll lose you, too?’

He rubs my shoulder soothingly. ‘You know I’ll never leave you.’

‘B-but what if we’re- If we’re forced apart. Levi, I have no strength-’

‘Shhh.’ He cuts me off with a soft whisper. ‘Don’t think about such things now.’ He pulls me into his side and I lean against him, desperate for comfort, desperate for something that will take all this pain away. ‘Let’s go back home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to push out one more chapter before uni restarts for real again. 
> 
> I'm not even gonna ask for forgiveness, yknow. I hate me, too. :c


	18. The Advancement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXgTwayfP1E (Robert Etoll - Fond Memories) *loops for 20 hours while writing*

The darkness and quiet that greet us once we step inside the apartment are far from welcoming; they’re cold, unnerving almost. Perhaps I was just really expecting – hoping – for one more person to fill this space. But that won’t happen today, and it never will again. As we undress and leave our coats and shoes by the door, the silence between us grows heavy and uncomfortable. Sluggish, skin-crawling. I know Levi wants to comfort me, but doesn’t really know how – and I don’t blame him; after all, how can you just simply cheer one up after witnessing such a grotesque death of a friend? So I know he wishes for my pain to stop, and I know he’s somehow hurting _with_ me; on one hand it makes me feel bad, but on the other I just don’t have the strength to try to pull myself out of my grieving stupor.

I don’t switch on the light as I pass the kitchen, but the faint hint of moonlight and street lamps make the bouquet visible, as it stands innocently and sweetly in the clear glass vase on the kitchen table. It makes me pause for a moment as my head spins. It’s just been a couple of hours, and yet it feels as if I held the flowers in a different lifetime, a happier one. A different reality, many, many years ago. It was brighter, somewhat, but now – just within half a day – it’s all been shattered and turned upside down. As all illusions. That’s all it was.

My feet drag me slowly to Levi’s room without me even being conscious of it. But then again, where else can I find some trace of comfort? Only there, where everything is just… _him._

An awful kind of exhaustion weights over me, like a water-soaked blanket. That kind of fatigue that doesn’t come from the body, but from the mind. I don’t want to sleep – I know that I won’t be _able_ to sleep – and yet I find myself laying on my side on top of the bed covers. I find myself dimly wishing they would just swallow me up, so that the crushing emptiness will just stop hurting. I’m tired. So strangely tired and empty. I can feel that something broke inside me, something snapped… I’ve lost something. Maybe some of that hope that Levi sparked inside me; now it has died down, and all that’s left is disillusionment. The world is still as cruel as it’s always been. Nothing’s changed.

Soon, soft footsteps fill the room. Having no strength, or perhaps just no will to speak, I can only manage a quiet sigh and hope he hears me and figures out I’m on the bed. Levi manages to, sitting down on the other side, head facing forward, his expression unreadable. He turns then, unsurely reaching an arm in my vague direction. I take it, settling our hands on the soft, cool sheets.

An ugly thought makes my stomach twist; we’ve been making love every night, and that permanently-damaged part of me suddenly wonders if he’ll still expect that of me, even if I logically know that he’d never force me into anything. Maybe it’s the sorrow causing it. The thought is brief, but it still makes me mumble with quiet uncertainty. ‘Can we… Can we not… do it, today? I just. I don’t think I…’

‘Shhh. Eren, it’s okay. Whatever you need.’ He coos, stroking my wrist with his thumb. ‘I can stay, if you want. Or I can leave you alone, if that’s what you’d prefer. Just tell me what you need from me. Anything.’

He cares. He’s the one person that cares, and that will always be there for me. Won’t he? I take a deep breath, the answer to his question obvious. ‘Please, stay.’ How strange is it that I’m asking him to stay in his own room? ‘Can you just… hold me? I don’t- don’t want to be alone.’

‘Whatever you need.’ He whispers, before settling down on his side beside me and pulling me into his chest. Breathing becomes just that little bit less tedious when he wraps his arms around my shoulder and the back of my head, holding me together so I don’t fall apart. As always. His heart beats reassuringly, filling up that painful void inside me with something that feels more calm.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to comfort me with words as they are so often just so futile. I couldn’t have been more grateful. He’d appear almost asleep, if it wasn’t for the gentle strokes across my back. And it is this silence that ultimately prompts me to spill out my woes to him.

‘He… He was a good person, you know?’ He doesn’t reply; just keeps caressing me. ‘He might have been a bit stubborn at times, he- he might have seemed as if he didn’t care, but… but he did, he really did, I-’ The words just tumble out by themselves, without me even understanding why I feel the need to make sure Levi understands. ‘He didn’t… he didn’t deserve this, Levi.’

The man squeezes me just a bit tighter. His voice is calm and quiet when he speaks above me. ‘I know, Eren. I know. He seemed like a good kid. No one deserves this anyway. Except for those who do _that_ to others.’

I fist my hand in his shirt, caving in under the cruelty and unfairness of it all. ‘Why is there no justice? He… He didn’t deserve this. He always helped me, but in the end, no one helped him. God, Levi… I probably wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for him. The things that monster did to us-’

It is then that it slowly dawns on me; Levi _doesn’t_ know. He’s not aware of the extent to which we were abused. I’ve never told him just how many deaths and suicides I’ve witnessed – not as if I could even count them myself. He can’t imagine how regular and how humiliating the rapes and the tortures were. He can only guess, can assume – but he just doesn’t _know._

And it feels like we realise it simultaneously. Levi takes a breath, and even that sounds uncertain. ‘Eren… Do you want to- do you want to tell me? What you’ve been through?’

I pause for a heartbeat or five until I take a breath myself, and genuinely consider his question. Do I want to tell him, to expose my darkest and deepest memories? He’s told me his. It’s only fair that I should do the same, right? But he’s giving me a choice, isn’t he? My first instinct is to reject, to go back into safety, to not progress. I’ve already tried to progress once today, and look how that ended up. But at the same time, it somehow feels like keeping secrets from him, and that’s the last thing I want to do. I trust him with everything. I trust him with my life. So I can tell him this, can’t I?

‘Do- do you want to listen, though?’

‘Eren. You’ve _lived_ through this. The least I can do is listen to your story, if you think this will help you.’

Of course. Of course he’d say something like this. What else did I expect? ‘I… don’t even know where to start.’ There is just so much of it, it’s difficult to make any logic of this massive lump of just _pain_ in my mind.

‘Wherever you feel comfortable. It’s okay. Take your time.’

Right. Maybe it’ll be easier to start at the beginning? That would give it some structure, wouldn’t it? Some logic…

With another heavy, shaky breath, I begin my disgusting tale.

 

_Getting water from the village well; that’s all I was planning for that morning. Mikasa, being the stronger one, needed a lot of convincing to let me go for once and to be the one to prepare food instead._

_It’s been just over a month since mom died, and 17 days since our father left. I kept count. He disappeared without an explanation, leaving only a small note behind to ‘wait for our aunt to pick us up in a couple of days; if she won’t, he’ll be back in a week’. Neither of them have showed up. We were alone, and running out of money for food and the will to fight as we still grieved the loss of our mother whom we loved so much._

_But people must’ve started talking. ‘Carla J_ _äger is dead, and her husband suddenly disappears. Hasn’t been seen in days. His clinic in town is closed. He committed suicide out of grief, and left two children behind. No one is coming for them. They’re orphans, with nothing but a small wooden house to their name.’_

_We should have known, we should have expected it. ‘Spy on your neighbour to get a reward; it’s alright, you’re just helping the police keeping the community safe and in order.’ We should have predicted that poor villagers would fall to the temptation of easy money; but even if we did, where would we go? Where would we hide?_

_So our minds were occupied with basic survival, in the hope of our treacherous father returning. Visiting our mom’s grave with flowers was our plan that afternoon, but we never got a chance. I couldn’t possibly describe my utter bewilderment when I saw two black cars by our home as I dragged the heavy bucket along; it was a mixture of hopeful relief that maybe, just maybe he’s back, as well as of an unsettling, subconscious sense of something being very, very wrong._

_That’s when I saw Mikasa, in the back seat of one of the cars, just before it started driving off. I was close enough to see the tears on her face and how red her eyes were. The bucket fell out of my grasp and toppled over, the noise causing the two men on our doorstep to turn around and spot me._

_I ran, then. I knew I had to get Mikasa out, but how would I do that if I got caught also? I needed to find someone. But who would help me?_

_In the end, I didn’t get very far. I didn’t go without a fight, but no matter how much I tried, I failed. They took us away._

_Orphanage; that’s where the social services brought us, despite our protests, despite our claims that doctor Grisha J_ _äger was alive and coming back for us. And in the end, it all came down to politics, influences, hierarchy. Our father was a respected physician and an honourable member of society; everybody knew him – even though we were poor, weighted down with our grandparents’ debts. What they ended up doing was giving us a month in the orphanage, giving our dad time to return, and simply storing us for him for when he came back. They even fed us regularly and gave us our own room, despite the home being as poor and overcrowded as the rest of the village; they just didn’t want us to complain to our father about our time here, because his opinion would matter. Because his gratitude for treating his kids right would surely have an influential, maybe even financial aspect to it. Politics. Pretences._

_It all changed soon enough when it became clear that he wasn’t, in fact, coming back. After that month, five more kids were assigned to our room. We began eating bland oatmeal for breakfast, and a fruit or vegetable – of questionable freshness and origin – for dinner. We’d go to bed early just like everyone else, so that we wouldn’t feel the hunger._

_Once the concept of slavery was explained to me, and how people in the city didn’t value you as a human unless you were productive for the society, I couldn’t understand why they kept all of us there anyway; why not just kill us? We weren’t sufficiently educated. We had no property, no inheritance,_ nothing _to call our own, putting our rights around those of household pets. That’s how useful we were, according to the new constitution. Why did they keep us alive, then?_

_I learned why, once they came for us again. Different people this time, not the social services. More dangerous. More intimidating. They came with documents and with money; their tones were business-like and low as they spoke with the management, while we huddled behind the door in the corridor, desperate to catch snippets of their conversations. We were scolded then, and ordered to go back to our rooms. Fearful and on edge, we sat in silence, until the men came to our room. They picked four of us, including Mikasa and myself, and led us outside, not wanting to tell us where we’re going._

_Outside, three trucks were waiting. That’s when they started separating us, dragging different people to different vehicles. They separated Mikasa and I again. It was chaos; we all cried, we all tried to fight, for which we were beaten with a bat. I fell to the ground, aching and helplessly watching as the truck with Mikasa and a bunch of other kids I came to know drove away, leaving nothing but floating dust in its wake._

_Heaving myself up with remaining strength, I ran once more, as far as my legs would carry me. I wasn’t looking where I was going; I just wanted to get_ away _. Anywhere. But I was weak, and the evening darkness made it difficult to navigate the unknown streets. But I ran, until my lungs threatened to give out._

_I always ran, and I always failed. And once I fell to the ground once more, my fate was sealed._

_They were on me in an instant, pointing guns at me, handcuffing me. They beat me, right there on that street, until my nose bled and I coughed up blood. None of the onlookers bothered to help me. They beat me, until I passed out._

_When I came to, I was tied to a chair. A voice started talking to me, and I only caught bits and pieces, but enough to understand my situation; with the permission of Trost city regional court, we’ve been bought from the orphanage by a brothel. To earn our existence, we’ll be selling our bodies from now on. Since that night, my neck has been chafed by the heavy collar constantly, and my hell began._

I take a few moments to breathe through the anxiety bubbling up and to lick my dry lips; I could use some water, but I have no intention of leaving the safe cocoon of Levi’s arms and blankets. He still doesn’t say anything; just holds me, and gives me time to find my voice again so that I can continue. With some hesitation, I do. ‘Keith was an unbelievable sadist from the very beginning, and didn’t hide it. No, he wanted everyone to know. Wanted everyone to fear him. And he was successful at that, really. I saw all those slaves terrified of him, but I still had my rage that kept me standing – they took my sister, God knows where; I didn’t know if she was even alive. I was determined to not break. And so, Keith had a problem with me; as fucked up as that sounds, each new slave would…’ I swallow, grimacing at the memories I am about to voice. ‘They’d put us on auction on their website – I didn’t even know what that meant at the time… All I knew would that those gross perverts would offer money to… to be the first one to… to rape us. I don’t know why it was so special, but they were willing to pay crazy money for it. H-how messed up is that?’ I scoff humourlessly, the sound echoing coldly in the room.

‘Eren…’ Levi’s voice is filled with concern, but I don’t let it distract me. I’ll finish what I’ve started, and maybe I’ll close this chapter behind me. Or, at least, put another lock on that door.

‘I-I’m fine.’ I sigh. ‘So… so the problem Keith had with me was that he wanted to sell me for a high price, but he also knew that I’d cause trouble, because he wouldn’t be able to ‘train’ me beforehand, since- since I was meant to be ‘fresh’ and a virgin and all. It still didn’t stop him from hurting me, of course…’

 

_Apparently, I set up a new record by making it to the solitary within the first three days of being a slave at Titan Club. I lay on the floor with my hands tied behind my back, dried blood under my nose, and no clothes on. Keith was standing, leaning against the wall and tapping at a flat electronic device, frowning at it all the time._

_‘Can’t believe a little cunt like you is causing me trouble from the very start. Not to worry though; you’ll pay for all that in good time. Can’t damage you too much now, they’re all thirsty for your virgin, unblemished ass.’ He laughs sourly at the screen in his hand. ‘Unreal how much they’re willing to pay… You should consider yourself lucky that you have a nice body and fuckable face; you’d be out the back and in pieces otherwise.’_

_The meaning of his words didn’t stick back then._

_‘I need ya to be clear on one thing,_ boy. _The only reason you’re still alive_ despite _causing me trouble, is that you have potential to attract lots of clients with your stupid good looks. As soon as that’s gone or damaged or no longer desirable, or as soon as you start being more trouble than you’re worth, you’re dead meat, do you fucking understand me?’ Keith finally looked up at me from his device to fix me with an annoyed glare. ‘Answer me, you piece of shit.’_

 _I looked up at him from the ground where I laid on my side, not intending to give him anything besides a brief nod and a bored expression. His whole body jerked in annoyance, and I could see it. Could see it so clearly. He wanted to hit or kick me again, he just_ itched _to do it. And yet, he held himself back. Waiting for when I was used for the first time, waiting for when he didn’t have to save me up anymore. For when he could mark me up to his heart’s content._

_The man to claim me first turned out to be fine with me being drugged; he was fine with anything as long as I was docile, obedient, and still a virgin. I never found out what Keith injected me with that evening, but it made my entire body heavy. My mind was sluggish, and through the dense fog of confusion, I hated myself for the lack of my will to fight when hands dragged me to a dark room. I remember red. Deep, blood red. Crimson. And black. It seemed as if the lights were dimmed. Something smelled like leather in that room, too._

_My head swam with a feeling of vertigo as my back hit the bed. My body moved without my conscious input or control; I was being manhandled. Tied up, in some lewd position on the edge of the bed. Not really able to properly gather my bearings, all I knew for certain was that I was naked with my legs spread so disgustingly. Keith was sitting behind my head, looking down at me. Was he smirking? Was he disgusted? I don’t remember his expression. I tried to focus on his eyes, but that was futile. I probably wouldn’t have seen much in them anyway, besides darkness and hatred. And yet, I was so desperate for some familiarity, for some comfort – even from my tormentor – as I shook in the fear of the unknown._

_I couldn’t really pinpoint the exact moment when the man appeared; all I knew was that at some stage the room filled with a conversation and large, calloused hands were on my exposed skin; my legs, my stomach, anywhere they could reach. I couldn’t see much of his face, but he was a tall, and fairly large man. I remember strands of grey hair._

_It wasn’t a conscious choice to start struggling; it was just a primal, natural instinct. Anyone would have, wouldn’t they?_

‘Keith obviously got angry with me being difficult. But… But apparently, he must have predicted that. He had another syringe with him. Before I knew it, they had me in a headlock, and…’ Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to somehow detach the images from the words, try to distance myself from it all. ‘I couldn’t do anything about the needle going into my neck. I barely remember anything after that. Felt like I wasn’t even in my body at all, and yet it hurt so much. Keith must have left, at some stage, I think. And… and the worst thing was that… that I…’ An ashamed whimper escapes me at the awful memory.

‘What was it, Eren? You can tell me. It’s alright.’

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to say it, to voice yet another thing that I’ve always been ashamed of, somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘I think I… At some stage, I- I begged… I begged him for more. I- oh, God.’ My words are nothing but sobs and whispers.

‘Eren. It’s fine. You don’t have to be ashamed of that. I mean it. You… You weren’t in control of your body, not even your mind. You were drugged, and… probably, somewhere, subconsciously, you hoped that the sooner he’d… _finish_ … the sooner your torment would be over. Don’t be ashamed.’ His voice is so calm and soothing as he tightens his hug in a comforting squeeze. How is it that he always has an answer to everything? ‘Do you want to tell me more?’ My voice momentarily gone, I just nod against his chest. ‘Take your time.’

Once I’m able again, I tell him what I remember about my first weeks as a slave. About how Keith tried his damn hardest to break me – and other new slaves, too –  with anything he could. Pain to the point of unconsciousness. Humiliation through nudity and a thousand other things. Starvation, or quite the opposite; forcing me to eat or drink the worst things – urine, blood, semen, faeces, my own vomit. How these tortures never stopped until the day Levi bought me. I tell him about that time I hung from the ceiling for days, stripped down, starving, dehydrated, and drenched in my own urine. How Jean helped me, brought me water, for which he was punished so severely that his blood – and a fingernail – were enough to fill up some third or half of a plastic bottle, which I was then forced to drink. I tell him how the existing slaves were forced to rape me, one by one. How Keith and Nile would sometimes force me to behave like an animal, make me eat from a bowl on the floor or put a muzzle and a leash on me, and then recording videos of me, apparently having the time of their lives. I try to list all the boys and men who have taken their own lives, unable to cope with the abuse any longer.

One thought leads to the next, and a particular memory comes to my mind. Disgusting. But so are all of them, so the decision to share it with Levi comes easier now.

‘One night, they took us to a prison. We had no idea where we were going, though. Not like anyone would ever tell us. They just rounded a couple of us up and threw into a van. We thought they’re moving us to another brothel. We were just… so relieved, you know? We were certain that no other place on earth can be as evil as this.’

It was only later that we found out Shadis has received a significant sum of money for renting us out to the prisoners, who apparently got bored of jerking each other off and demanded ‘fresh meat’ in exchange for good behaviour. In whatever way the prison was run, seemingly it was more efficient to give into that ridiculous demand than to have the inmates revolting.

The memory is vivid in my head, and as much as I hate the clarity, I decide to tell Levi as much as I can remember. Somehow, it’s just essential, it’s critical that I tell him everything. I want every memory uncovered, exposed. Dried up and shrivelled by the light, so that I may turn away and never be bothered by it again. So I tell him every detail I see in my mind.

 

_The tall hall with dark brick walls and two levels of cells with male inmates. The dim light from buzzing lightbulbs in each cell. The intimidating guards strolling back and forth, heavy bats at their belts. The cold. The smell of sweat. The echoes of footsteps and conversations, and the catcalling that inevitably followed as we made our way behind Keith and two guards in a line. Every now and then, we would stop by a cell. The barred door would creak open, and we’d lose one of us in the line. By then, we all had a fair idea of why we were there. Some wept softly. Some started panicking. I was furious. But it was a volatile rage; one that was separated from terror and tears by a thin line of hysteria – I knew I wouldn’t get out of here. But as always, the anger kept me standing._

_That was until it was time for me to be shoved into a cell. I remember my heart hammering in my ears as the door was shut behind me and I stood face to face with four men who looked hungry enough to cut me into pieces and eat me. Having no chance in a physical fight against them, I tried negotiating; I’d cooperate. I’d do what they wanted. I wouldn’t fight, wouldn’t cause a fuss, if only they wouldn’t be too rough with me._

_But they weren’t interested in that. They wouldn’t listen. They held me down on that cold floor and forced themselves on me, using and twisting and hurting my body in ways that I have never even imagined were possible before. I fought and I cried and I screamed until I found myself shaking and curled up on the floor some time later. Funnily enough, I didn’t even notice when they were done with me; my body was hurting just as much even when they stopped._

_It took all of us many days to recover from that visit. Some of us never did._

_All in all, it was quite early that Keith realised he’d have a lot of profit from me. For whatever reason, many customers found me attractive; ranging from old paedophiles and past criminals, through spineless bastards who got bossed around at work and wanted to take out their frustration, to the one-in-a-million case of someone just wanting to get laid while grieving their destroyed marriage - the last type happened only a couple of times for me, but I always kept hoping for that kind of poor sap to show up; they tended to not be as rough. All kinds of people, and somehow, they all just loved how_ I _cried and screamed in particular._

_Which was the only reason why I was still alive, really. Just like Keith told me himself. He kept me around despite my escape attempts. Despite my demands to let me talk to Mikasa through the laptop, every now and again. Despite my fighting spirit – slowly but surely giving up, true, but still hanging on by thin threads._

_It was when I became ill that the thought of death stared me in the face. I surprised myself by not being terrified of it. By not turning away from it._

_It must have been over half a year in that place when my body gave up. Maybe it was an infection from the constant wounds. Maybe it was starvation. Maybe it was the literal rubbish that he fed us. Or the cold. Or maybe it was the never-ending fear, stress and anxiety. Or perhaps it was all of that. Whatever it was, it woke me up in the middle of the day, sweaty and shivering. The thin sheet that served as my duvet clung to my body like uncomfortable, loose, second skin, making me think for a moment that I had an embarrassing bathroom accident after the trauma of the previous night – which wouldn’t actually be the first time. Turned out it was just sweat. Bringing my hand to my cheek, neck, and under my chin, I gasped at how scorching my skin was despite my entire form trembling. I was clammy, I was freezing, but hot at the same time. My breath came in pained whines that sounded pitiful even in my own ears, which also burned with heat. My eyes felt dry and prickly, forcing me to blink constantly. I was in so much trouble._

_Looking across our tiny room – cell, really – Jean’s form remained still with his back to me. Still asleep. I wanted to try and call out to him, ask him for water, but didn’t get anywhere with that; my tongue sat woollen and heavy in my dry mouth, and when I tried to swallow, my throat erupted in intense pain that made my entire head and neck throb. Maybe it was for the best, really; we all cherished sleep here. One and only way of escaping the horrors of this place._

_Weak and with a heart hammering from exertion of throwing off my covers and heaving myself up, I tried to stand up to go to the tiny bathroom. Once more, my body didn’t cooperate; I had no idea how weak my legs were and fell face first to the ground with a heavy thud._

_My roommate, being a light sleeper, sat up immediately with an alarm in his eyes.  I tried to apologize, but only managed to mouth the word as I attempted to lift myself up. With the corner of my eye, I saw him sitting still for a moment, taking in my struggling form. ‘Oh, fuck.’ He murmured with dread in his voice before he leapt out of his bed, rushing over to me, holding my body up by my shoulders so I wouldn’t fall to the floor again. ‘What the fuck, Eren? Wha- Christ, you’re_ burning. _Shit, come on, back on the bed.’_

_I whine as he throws my arm over his shoulder and heaves me up, lowering me back on my damp bed; would be heavenly to be able to wash the sheets, but I wouldn’t have anywhere to dry them since it wasn’t the common day of the month to wash bed linen. Jean strode to the bathroom and came back a few moments later with a dripping wet towel and a glass of water. I hissed as he covered my forehead with the icy cloth, and found myself whining quietly as my lips trembled beyond my control as my eyes continued to itch and burn. Without a word, he lifted my head up and brought the glass to my lips, tilting it slowly, patiently waiting for me to finish drinking. He fixed the towel on my head and tucked the sheet under my chin, for which I was grateful, even though it did nothing to stop my shivers. My vision swam, but I saw him taking the cover off his own bed and putting it on top of me. I think the kind gesture warmed me up more than the thin fabric did._

_‘T… Tha…’_

_‘Don’t talk. Just rest, now. Try to go back to sleep.’_

_I close my eyes, turning away, chest still heaving. Sleep. Right. That’s the only thing I wanted at the moment._

_For some amount of time – which could have been half an hour or half a day – I drift in and out of consciousness. My fever hasn’t gone down in the slightest, and I developed a bad, rattling cough, a runny nose and a headache. I couldn’t stop the whines coming from my aching throat, or the shivers. With each passing moment, I was getting worse, barely able to stand it. In that feverish state, it was hard not to cry out of helplessness, but also fear; how much worse am I going to get? What will Keith say once he finds out?_

_Still only dimly aware of time, it seemed as if I didn’t have to wait too long for an answer when the monster walked in and stopped at my bed, his intimidating form looming over me. I forced an instinct to shrink in on myself._

_He spat ridiculous accusations at me. ‘What the fuck is this? Huh? What sort of circus is that? Slacking off from work, huh? That what you’re trying to do?’_

_I wanted to argue, to tell him that I really fucking wish I didn’t feel like I was chewed, half-digested and regurgitated by some animal. Tell him that it’s his own fault his ‘workers’ are unhealthy, pretty much half-dead most of the time. But the only thing that I managed to gasp out were hot, raspy breaths._

_‘Three days. You have three days to sleep that joke off.’ Joke? I was practically dying. ‘Don’t fucking test me; any longer than that, and you’ll fucking regret it. I’m so fucking tired of you causing trouble, so you better get your ass in gear. Believe it or not, but there’s a goddamn limit to my patience.’_

_He slammed the door so loud that my whole head throbbed more, not letting me fall asleep for a long while. When the night was over, Jean walked in, startling me from my shallow slumber. I watched him drag his feet over to his bed as he scratched his bare arm idly; something he often did after ‘work’; as if he was subconsciously trying to scrape off the feeling of men touching him as if it was something tangible. He sat on his mattress and looked so distant, as if he felt so out of place. How badly did they hurt him over the past couple of hours? At least he didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere._

_I wanted to try to say something, but he was faster and walked up to where I laid. ‘You still cold?’ I settled in for a quick nod in reply, to which he started to strip from his pants; there wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. It’s not like we didn’t see each other naked pretty much every day. ‘We can share body heat. Move over.’ The bed was definitely a single one, but perhaps we could make it work. I squeezed myself into the wall and Jean laid on the edge, on his side with his back to me. ‘Here, uh- just wrap your arms around my stomach.’ But when I did, his whole body jerked. ‘F-fuck! How can your hands be so cold when the rest of you is on fire?’_

_‘S. S-sor…’ I tried to apologize, already feeling bad for stealing his covers and being a general pain in the ass, but he grabbed my hands and pulled them back around his abdomen with an annoyed huff._

_‘Just don’t cough on me too much, turd.’_

_I fell asleep with a small smile on my lips. Maybe, just maybe, I would manage to get at least a little bit better over those three days._

_Those hopes were shattered when I woke up with a deep, heavy pain in my bones; a tell-tale sign of a more serious cold. A bathroom trip took an excruciatingly long time, and by the time I was back in my bed, I felt like I’ve just ran a marathon, falling asleep immediately once more._

_The next time I woke, my fever has worsened. I wanted to tear out my hair with how sick it made me feel. Each heartbeat ached deep in my chest, and sounded like an avalanche in my ears. Recovery in just over two days was simply impossible, and I knew it, even in my feverish state. And then Keith would hurt me again, or lock me in the solitary where I’d most likely die in slow agony. There was only one choice, really._

_I managed to heave myself up into a sitting position just as Jean exited the toilet. He looked surprised to see me awake, and walked over, taking a seat at the edge of the mattress. ‘You alright?’_

_Forcing and focusing all my strength on speaking, I managed to push out the words, slowly. ‘Jean. I need… one last. Favour. Sh-sharp. Get me. Something. E-even a pen. Will do. Please._

_He squinted and winced in obvious confusion. ‘Eh? What?’_

_It required a significant effort for me to not groan in frustration. But then again, he did deserve at least an explanation. It was just difficult to talk, that’s all. ‘Three days… Keith has given me. Won’t. Get better. Not e-enough time. He- he’ll kill. Me. But he’ll. Make it hurt. I… want to do… that. Myself. P-please. Help me, Jean.’_

_He waited patiently for me to finish my muttering, and when I did, his face flashed with realisation. He stood up abruptly, his incredulous eyes boring into me with something that looked like anger. ‘What the fuck? The fuck are you on about? You’re- you’re fucking kidding, right?’ He scoffed tensely, but seeing that I didn’t join him, his expression hardened. ‘That’s what you wanna do? Kill yourself? Think you can just gonk out early, just cause you’re scared of a few whippings from Keith?! How dare you even think such a thing? How the fuck dare you even ask this of me?!’ I frowned, turning away, not even entirely sure why he was so angry. ‘What about your sister? Huh?! Thought about her? What would she do, after weeks of waiting to hear your voice, only to be told that, oh, Eren fucking J_ _äger just decided to kill himself, tough luck! How can you be so fucking selfish?!’_

_‘Sto- stop shouting a-at me!’ My pitiful attempt at arguing with him only sent me into a coughing fit._

_He stood there, watching while I tried to calm my breathing. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, visibly making an effort to collect himself. ‘I’m gonna cut you some slack. You’re delirious, that’s all. It’s the fucking fever talking. You don’t even know what you’re saying. But if I hear you spewing that kind of shit out of your mouth when you get better, I’m going to box your teeth in, you hear me?’_

_I looked up to him once more. ‘Why do you… even care?’_

_I watched his expression turn into something strange, something I couldn’t exactly decipher. His eye twitched briefly. ‘I don’t. Don’t want a new roommate who snores, that’s all. Now get the hell back to sleep, you sound like you’ve got a lot of recovering to do.’ With that, he was gone, only leaving a strange feeling behind._

_He really did actually care about others._

_With the help of almost continuous sleep and the icy wet towel, I managed to lose some of the temperature by the next afternoon. Still felt like absolute garbage, but at least it was a step in the right direction. Maybe Keith would be satisfied if I showed some improvement._

_Seeing that the other bed in the room was empty though made me think it was evening already, so I was surprised when Jean appeared in the doorway, still clothed from the waist down. What alarmed me was a fresh red bruise on his cheek that would surely become a dark purple soon, and a styrofoam cup in his hand. ‘Jean? What- your face, what happened?’_

_‘What? Oh, I just. Hit the door. Uh, here. Managed to snatch you some soup. It’s vegetable, so it’s got like, nutrients, and stuff.’_

_Lie. Big, fucking fat lie. Hit the door my ass. Why was he lying to me? It was so obvious he got in trouble for helping me. Was it the cook or Keith? Either way, just a slap – as strong as it was to form such a bruise so quickly – seemed like a relatively light punishment for stealing_ food. _Was Keith perhaps turning a bit of a blind eye on that because he knew very well I wouldn’t recover on my own? I took the cup from his extended hand, just about to call him out on his blatant lie, but in the end, I settled in for asking something more important._

_‘Jean.’ I stared at the vegetable pieces floating in the thick creamy soup. I pretty much have forgotten how good food can smell. ‘Tell me. Just… tell me why you help me so much.’_

_His answer was almost automatic. ‘Because that’s what we do here.’_

_‘I know, I know. You’ve told me that before. But… to such an extent? And don’t pretend, I’m not that dense to fall for you saying it was the door, come on.’_

_Looking somewhat uncomfortable, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. I readied myself for another lecture. ‘Because this is the only thing we_ can _do. This is the only thing that keeps us from becoming the mindless, brainless creatures that he treats us as. He can take everything from us. Hell, he already did. Our humanity, dignity, freedom. But this… this is the only way in which we can rebel, this is the one thing he can’t take from us.’ I watched his eyes practically glow with emotion. ‘The companionship, and the friendship, and the sense of community that we have here, no matter how pitiful and pathetic we all are here. He will keep trying to break us all apart, set us against each other, force us to rape one another, punish us for the other’s misbehaviour, but he’ll never. Break us. Because we stick together. But I guess you never made the effort to see, to notice that, because the only thing you always look for is an escape. Tell me this, then; if you find one, what the fuck will you do, huh? Where will you go? How_ far _will you go with that collar on your neck, no money in your pocket and no strength in your body? Be logical for once in your life, goddammit! We all lead pathetic existences here, and face it – that’s not going to change. Ever. But helping each other makes it somewhat more bearable. When I help you, it’s not just for you, but for all of us. To strengthen us, so that we know that we all have someone to count on, even in this hell hole! I don’t expect you to pay_ me _back, I expect you to be there for anyone that might need it! What’s to not understand?!’_

 _By the end of his unexpected speech, he was panting, while I was frozen in place, the soup not warming up my face with the steam anymore. His words intertwined and mingled in my mind; it was a lot to take in and process. Words, which sounded somehow too big for him, and yet he obviously shouted them from the heart. Oh. Of course._ Marco _. If anyone was capable of instilling such strong morals and flicker of hope into a group of people scarred to the point of wishing for death, it would be him._

 _I didn’t know what to say. Honestly, I didn’t even know whether I_ should _say something. Feeling like the worst and most inconsiderate jerk, I was pretty sure I shouldn’t defend myself or even attempt to open my mouth._

_‘Whatever, just- whatever. Drink that soup and go to sleep. You’re running out of time.’_

_He left without saying anything else, leaving me to stew in the feeling of my own stupidity and self-hatred. I really was a self-centred jerk._

_Expectedly, I barely recovered after the three days were over. Keith stayed true to his word and made me regret being born; he still rented me out, but just bent over and tied to a flat surface with a white mask over my mouth to not spread germs in the main common room. I barely remembered any of it; the fever came back, and I was barely conscious. What I was acutely aware of was the pain, the constant flaring pain against my overheated and oversensitive skin. But Jean’s words stuck with me, and I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I deserved those agonising nights before I slowly managed to recover._

_We never spoke of that conversation again, and there was no need to; I knew Jean was right. I never tried running away after that. In between the ‘shifts’, I took the time and made the effort to carefully watch the other slaves, and_ really _see them, instead of channelling all my energy into anger and frustration and rebellion. They were still there, they always were, but I let them become dormant. Perhaps it was even for my own good. I would adapt. Somewhere, I overheard an analogy, an interesting anecdote; it is the grass that can bend and adapt that will survive the hurricane, and not the tree that is unyielding – it will only break. Surely, everyone wants to be as majestic and proud as a tree. So I had to ask myself; what was more important to me; pride, or survival? Being my stubborn self, answering that was difficult. But then again, there was Mikasa, who I know would beat the doubts out of me. Until I became grass. So with that thought, I did._

_But not completely, of course. Maybe I was a bush; I’d be torn and battered by the storm, but I’d have a better chance of remaining standing than the tree. I still fought with Keith, still stood up to him – for the sake of my own sanity – but much less. I tried to follow Jean’s advice; I tried to be logical. How much sense was there in trying to fight against that devil’s tortures? He’d only cut and bruise and humiliate me more, while still getting what he wanted in the end. So I played along more often. I became more subdued, and without that constant fiery anger keeping me going, I began craving company – at least company that didn’t want to endlessly abuse me. I started repaying my debt to Jean; first time was helping a limping slave who could barely hold himself upright back to his cell. Another time, I shared food. Yet another day, I cleaned someone’s wounds, and later that day, I told stories about nature and village life to a group of pre-pubescent boys. It became a routine, second nature, and they accepted me, despite me being a lone wolf – a very angry one at that – for so long._

There’s wetness on my face, but it’s a volatile sensation. I don’t really feel connected to my body. ‘But I still feel like I haven’t repaid that debt. He’d always help me when… when it hurt. And it- it always did, Keith always m-made it hurt. And I don’t want that anymore. So… can you- please, can you not hurt me?’

What am I saying?

‘Eren. Eren, that’s enough. Come back to me. Enough of bringing back those memories. You’ve gotta come back to me.’ Huh…? What? ‘Do you- do you know where you are, Eren?’

That voice sounds familiar. Worried, too. What are they saying? ‘Uh? Wh…at?’

‘Open your eyes, kid. Look around. Do you recognise any of this? Focus. Take your time. It’s alright.’

I try to tune into the voice, into the words. As I process them, it starts to feel more like I have a body again. Like I’m a person. Once I register my vision, a body comes into view. A chest. There’s a face when I look up, but that’s a bit complex for now. Looking around, I try to find something simpler. Walls. I don’t really see the colour, it must be dark in here. There’s a window, though. And a large bookshelf. Yeah. I think I recognise these things. There’s a door near the second window. And another behind me. A clutter of things on a desk not far away. And a bed. That’s where I am now. Yeah. It starts to feel familiar, and I start to regain feeling in my body. Really, it’s more like I’m crawling through the mud towards it.

‘Your… bedroom. You’re- you’re… Levi.’

‘That’s right. Have I ever deliberately hurt you, do you remember?’

A brief image flashes through my mind. A… gun? But it doesn’t seem to hold any meaning or significance, and disappears from my thoughts as soon as it appeared. ‘No. No, you- you didn’t.’

A soft exhalation above me, after which my body is pressed more tightly, but not uncomfortably so. He’s- he’s hugging me. Hugging. Levi. ‘You’re safe here, Eren. No one will harm you. You’ve left that awful place, and you’re never going back there.’

The words swim in my mind until I start to understand them. They ground me, and so does the warm body around me and the calm breathing near my ear. The cars outside. The darkness. Reality starts to properly sink in, but it takes another long while for me to fully return to my body from- from wherever I was floating. All sensations and feelings and thoughts and awareness slam into me at once, and I kind of feel like a new-born who just faced the world for the first time. Curling more into Levi’s chest for protection from it, I feel my body start to tremble.

‘I’m… I’m sorry, I- I don’t even know w-what that was. That never happened before…’

One of his arms shifts and starts to comb through and stroke my hair. ‘Don’t apologise. I understand. You brought up way too many traumatising memories at once… Maybe your subconscious just wanted to run away from it. But it’s fine, now. It’s all okay.’

‘Mh.’ I murmur in some sort of affirmation. Words just seem… difficult, now. Everything feels tiring at the moment, really. And yet still, I can’t stop the guilt that manages to bubble up within me – I’m making this difficult for Levi, aren’t I? Bringing so much grief into his house, even though he doesn’t have anything to do with it; Jean wasn’t anyone close to him like he was to me. ‘No, but. I really am… sorry. I’ll- I’ll be fine, I just. I need to recover a bit, just. Just a little bit of time. I just need a bit.’

‘Anything. Take anything, as much time as you need.’

 

 

It turns out that I need more time than I initially expected. The first week passes in a dull sort of sluggishness. The apartment is much quieter than usual; there is no usual laughter during the day and no loving whispers in the night; there are just quiet, sporadic conversations. Levi doesn’t ask me to clean, and I do the bare minimum of cooking for us to get by – I know he’s giving me time, and I couldn’t love him more for it, but at times I wish he would just slap some sense into me, wish he would be cruel and cold and _force_ me to try and function normally, because by the time the first week after Jean’s death passes, sometimes I start to wonder if I’ll manage to drag myself out of this stupor. But it’s Levi; he’d never do that; he’d never be anything other than loving and patient.

So, almost all the leftover time that I have, I spend in Levi’s room, quite often with either one of his or Armin’s books, flipping through pages idly and reading random paragraphs as I lay curled up on his bed under the blanket while he works on his articles. He’s really working hard these days, which worries me. But then again, what else is he supposed to do when the person he lives with suddenly becomes a lifeless walking shadow?

By the time the second week slowly approaches its end, I become painfully aware that enough is enough; and yet I still lack the forceful shove to force me back into the real world. 

It comes unexpectedly, in the middle of the night. _He_ comes.

I’m not sure if I’m dreaming, or if the Jean in front of me is an apparition; not as if that really matters though. He’s still not real. And maybe that’s why he looks so peaceful. He stands at the foot of the bed, his expression calm as he looks between sleeping Levi and myself. He looks _whole_ , his body intact, not covered in blood and dirt; but at the same time, he doesn’t look like anything. There is no colour to him, the light and shadow don’t dance on his form as the moon peaks in through the curtains. There are no contours, and yet I see him clearly. When those eyes that aren’t actually there look straight into mine, they’re piercing, making my body freeze where I sit. My stomach turns with guilt and grief, and words tumble from my mouth. Except that nothing comes out. My mouth moves, but that’s about it; it’s like I’m a fish taken out of water. There is so much I want to tell him, so much I _should_ tell him, so much that I should _apologize_ for, and so much that I should not even dare to voice. For certain, my pathetic excuses are the last things he wants to hear; they won’t make anything better, and they won’t bring him back to life. I watch his face helplessly, waiting for him to lash out, waiting for forgiveness, waiting for anything. Anything, but this awful silence and blank expression. I stare into his eyes, pleading, searching for the hatred and coldness that doesn’t seem to actually be there. But how much of it is wishful thinking? How much of it all is even possible if he isn’t even real?

‘Live.’

My gasp echoes in the room before I even register what has happened, and by then he’s gone, leaving me shocked and shaken. Nothing else, besides a single word. _Live_. Does… that mean I’m forgiven? That he doesn’t hold a grudge? Whatever it is, I know one thing for certain; it’s time to move on. Time to stop grieving Jean, and let him go. Time to _live._

I fall back to sleep wondering what exactly I’m going to tell Levi. That I finally decided to stop being pathetic and come back to life? The answer becomes trivial once I wake up and see Levi’s open eyes; just tell him the truth, and we’ll take it from there. ‘I saw Jean.’

For a few long moments, he doesn’t say anything. He stays on his side, facing me, looking deep in thought. ‘Did he do anything? Say anything?’

That takes me aback; it’s not what I thought I’d hear. I think I expected something along the lines of, _you need help_ , or at least for him to tell me that I should go back to sleep, that I need more rest.

‘He just said… He said, _live_.’

‘Just that?’

‘Just that.’

He exhales slowly, heavily. ‘And are you ready to do that? To continue doing that?’

As much as it scares me, the answer is obvious. ‘I am.’

 

 

To my unrestrained delight, things come back to normal. It takes me a while to get everything back up and running as it should – dust has gathered up on the shelves, the floor needed a good vacuuming and mopping – but with the cleaning experience I gained over these months, it doesn’t take me as long as I thought it would. We study together again, watch the TV, cuddle, go on walks, and make love. It’s comforting that despite this thorn in my mind reminding me how disgusting the world actually is – the world beyond those walls, outside of Levi’s apartment – I still can somehow enjoy life, in a sense, just as I did before this painful reminder two weeks ago.

 _Live_.

It is some two or three days later when I’m washing the dishes that Levi approaches me with a favour. ‘Eren, uh… Can you do something for me?’

I spin around to face him, closing the tap and wiping my hands. ‘Sure, what is it?’

‘Can you iron these for me?’ He holds out the black and white clothes he had draped over his arm and I take them from him.

‘Yeah, okay. Any special requirements for thi- Huh? Suit pants and a dress shirt? And uh, is that a cravat?’ I suddenly remember him wearing it when he bought me.

‘Ah, good, so I didn’t mix anything up.’ His small laugh is brief but light-hearted. ‘But yeah. Please don’t burn them, ‘kay?’

‘Wha- No, no, no, of course, I’ll use the low heat but-! Uhh, why do you need a suit anyway?’

Levi switches his weight from one foot to the other while rubbing his neck momentarily. Well, apparently the answer is not that easy? It’s definitely odd, and his strange behaviour puts me on edge. He’s… not going to another slave sale, is he? ‘Well, uh. I was thinking a lot. About what you’ve told me, about what you’ve showed me. And- yeah. Wanted to give it a try, you know? Even if it’s not gonna work, just. Just out of curiosity, you know.’ He’s tripping over words. So _unlike_ him. _Nervous._ ‘So I, uh. I got in touch with the university, where I worked. With the head of health and science department.’ My eyes become saucers. _Watery_ saucers. He did it. He actually did it. He _did_ it. ‘He told me they might have something, uh, something small for me. Like just to do a presentation. To see how I get on. Didn’t tell me much. Just to come tomorrow to discuss details and. Yeah.’

The boundless joy that fills me is going to make me levitate right off this floor, I’m sure. ‘Lev- Oh my God. I don’t- That’s just. That’s so amazing! I don’t even know what to say! I’m so happy you built up the courage!’

He visibly goes red, clearly feeling a bit awkward. Well, he better gets used to this, because I’m not going to shut up about how happy and proud I am for ages. ‘Y-yeah. Thanks, I guess. Uh…’

‘I’ll iron them right away! What time are you going tomorrow?’

‘In the morning, but. Eren, wait.’ He reaches out to me just before I’m about to dart off and get the ironing board from the tiny storage. ‘Can I ask you for something else? Another favour? I mean, it’s more like an offer. But kinda a favour too. But you can refuse, of course. You have a choice, as always, yeah? I won’t get upset or anything-’

‘Levi. You’re awfully tense.’ I speak slowly, putting my hand on his shoulder in hope of grounding and calming him down a bit. It seems to work, to a minute extent. ‘Deep breaths, yeah? Tell me what you need.’

He sighs, following my advice. ‘Sorry, I guess I’m just. A bit nervous, you know. So, what I wanted to ask you was, um. Would you like to- How would you feel about going there with me? I wanted to introduce you to the head of the department, and ask whether… Whether you could be my assistant, during the presentation. If you’d agree.’

The only reasonable reaction is to stare at him in shock. This… He can’t be serious. They wouldn’t let me into a _school_ , I’m sure, so they’d definitely chase me out of a university with pitchforks. Showing my face and my collared neck in front of who-knows how many i _mportant_ people? Levi having a _slave_ for an assistant? Just how much would his reputation plummet? I mean, I’d love to. I’d _die_ to see the place that Levi loves so much, the place that he spent so much of his time at; the place where the magic of education - and just _life -_ happens. I’d love to visit it and dream just for a moment that someday, I could be a part of that world, too. I’d love to perhaps be of some practical use to Levi, for once.

‘Levi, you just keep shocking me today.’ I laugh breathlessly with disbelief. ‘Of course I’d love to go. Just, I mean- this couldn’t _possibly_ be okay… right?’

‘Eren. You know I wouldn’t let you get hu-’

‘You wouldn’t let me get hurt, I know, Levi. I know. You know I can’t possibly express how much I appreciate that you take care of me so much, but… But it’s not about me. It’s about you. It’s your future. I don’t want to ruin it, or taint your reputation. They wouldn’t take you seriously with me parading by your side.’ The last words are quiet, my mind still bitter about the cruel reality.

‘To be honest, I don’t give a fuck.’ My eyes shoot back up to his face, the blunt words definitely catching my attention. ‘As long as I can do the work that I love, get paid for it, all the while having you there with me – I don’t give a damn beyond that.’ He folds his arms. ‘Besides, it’s not just _my_ future. It’s our- I want you to be a part of my future. If you so wish.’

Now it’s my turn for my face to heat up madly; leave it to Levi to just drop big things like that out of the blue, apparently. ‘Ah… But… They’d never agree for you to bring me in the first place, would they? I- I mean the man that you’re seeing tomorrow.’

He unfolds his arms again, rubbing at his forehead. ‘That’s why I want to go tomorrow and discuss this with him. See, I know him well. He’s a reasonable man. I think he could be on board with this. Besides…’ He shifts his weight from one leg to the other again; this conversation must be really uncomfortable for him. Not a big surprise, since he finds it difficult to even call slavery by its name. Beating around the bush, just like I’ve always done about his disability. ‘Eren, I know how _disgusting_ most people are about… about… this entire slavery trade.’ I barely manage to stop myself from gasping; that’s definitely a first. ‘They trust the system to keep it ethical and lawful; they think that if law and order is kept then it’s okay, so that their consciousness doesn’t kill them for allowing such disgusting things to take place in front of them. They see any divergence from the norm, from what they expect, as a potential threat to that perfect bubble they’ve created for themselves. And what they expect from slaves is to be quiet and obedient, because that’s just what slaves are supposed to be, right? The law allows for that, allows slavery, so it means it’s moral, and it’s how things should be.’ He scoffs bitterly, but I’m frozen, somewhat transfixed by the brutal and bare honesty of his words. ‘That’s why we have to put that show of a stern master and fearful slave outside; so that we don’t attract attention. So that no police will get on our case after some _upstanding_ and _law-abiding_ citizen decides to inform the authorities of some out-of-the-ordinary events. It’s pointless, it’s disgusting, and downright brainless. But that’s how it is.’ He ponders for a while, seemingly choosing his next words. ‘But at the same time, not everyone is like that. Compare, say, the nurse from the hospital, with Dr Ral, from the clinic. Or with Armin and his grandfather. There are people out there who are _reasonable_. And that’s what I’m getting at; I’d like to think that more educated people, such as scientific communities, are more open, more accepting, and I assume that if they see you with me and if I announce that your presence has been approved by the university, then they won’t make a fuss... Obviously that’s not the rule; lots of scientists are stuck-up self-entitled jerks…’ He squints and frowns, as if suddenly remembering something. ‘Like, don’t hang out with biologists. They only love their big names and fancy suits.’

The unexpected remark along with that sour expression makes me giggle lightly. ‘So, what you’re saying is…’

‘What I’m saying is that it’s worth a try. Not to mention, I probably would never have done it if it wasn’t for you.’

I don’t have an answer to that. ‘So, um. If you’re really serious about it then, uh. What should I even wear? I mean…’ I trail off, trying to figure out the answer myself; I should look presentable – it wouldn’t do for Levi, in a suit, to drag around a guy in sweatpants and a polo shirt – but at the same time… Slave in a suit? That can’t be acceptable, can it? Not that I even have one.

Levi surprises me by laughing softly. ‘You know… I’d love nothing more right now than to see you in a plaid shirt and runners, just casually hanging out with other students in the lab. You know, we physicists are really, uh, _chill_ , as the kids say these days.’ His eyes glaze over, becoming somewhat more distant than usual; no doubt remembering those happier days. It’s heart-warming whenever he speaks so fondly of these science people. _His_ people. And at the same time, it’s utterly heart-breaking, for obvious reasons. The longing in his unseeing eyes is almost palpable. But it’s over quickly; he shakes himself a little and back into the present as he clears his throat. ‘Anyway, let’s forget I said that. I don’t think you’d need a suit for tomorrow. Try to find something that just looks… neat, and maybe not so heavy on vibrant colours? I trust your judgement.’

He _trusts_ my judgement.

 

 

The following morning finds me in front of the bathroom mirror for must be a solid half an hour, making sure the white long-sleeved top and black jeans I found in my wardrobe are impeccable, and trying to put my hair in some sort of order. The damn mop still looks messy as usual, but other than that, I think I look presentable enough.

Naturally, I’m nothing compared to the utter _beauty_ that is Levi when I enter his room. With my uninhibited adoration for him, I’m probably a little biased, but I can’t help but think he looks almost godlike in his suit pants, perfectly white dress shirt and the cravat he’s currently tying. It takes me a moment to manage to close my dried-up mouth and walk up to him to give him a hand with the cravat.

‘Y… you look. Wow. You look… breath-taking. Kinda wish we didn’t have to go so we could do… other things.’ My face immediately goes up in flames after I realise I’ve actually said that out loud.

Levi only laughs, reaching out to caress my face with his thumb. ‘When we get back.’

 

 

I expected myself to be desperate and itching to get back and have Levi keep his promise, but as soon as I catch sight of the enormous building in the distance that apparently is the university – which Levi asked me to search on the internet so that I’ll know how to walk us there from the bus – I’m immediately distracted and blown away, starting to walk just a little bit faster. With every step it comes into better view, and I get a better taste of just _how_ big it is. Not only is its size that is incredible; it’s actually quite impressive and modern-looking, covered in glass and shining beautifully in the sun.

As we walk closer, the obvious nervousness related to being in public starts to creep in; loud, chattering, and energetic people – most with backpacks, so I’m guessing students – mill about the open space we find ourselves in; covered in fine orange brick, few trees and benches to sit down here and there, some grassy areas, even a small fountain, tall street lamps, and a large sign that says ‘Trost City University’. Anxiety starts to diminish as increased amazement takes its place once I notice the students leaving and entering a bunch of other buildings around us; some as modern as the one where Levi and I are headed, and some looking much older.

‘Levi…’ My voice is breathless with wonder. ‘Are those buildings, those other ones… Are these universities, too?’

‘They’re different buildings of TCU. Most, if not all universities actually have multiple buildings. Usually it’s cause different departments and disciplines need different facilities that can’t be fit in in just a single space. Say, mechanical engineers, computer engineers, physicists, biologists, and chemists; they all need different labs. And then some buildings are just for administrative purposes.’

‘Th- that’s incredible. No wonder that you love this place so much.’

The only thing he responds with is a small, non-committal ‘hmm’. I turn to watch his face, to try and judge anything from it, but it’s neutral. Passive. Empty. Just as it always is when there’s _too much_ to show – when he’s hiding something. But it’s not like he has to hide; not from me, not anymore. It’s not like I can’t guess what he’s feeling; the pain, the longing, maybe even a bit of trauma, having to be here again, in the place where his life has been shattered. I squeeze his arm gently where it’s hooked around my elbow, not really knowing of any other way to comfort him. Word would be even more useless here.

We get to the glass-covered ‘Physics and Electronic Engineering Building’ in silence. I still can’t help but be in awe of the entire place; pure beige floor tiles and white walls with a navy horizontal stripe running across the length of them greet us in the empty entry hallway. Looking around, I take in a few paintings in wooden frames, a few posters, and some pictures - which I recognise as X-ray images, like the ones in Levi’s books – behind glass. There are two corridors extending both to the left and right, with the doors to the staircase and a lift in front of us.

‘Lift?’

‘Yeah. Eighth floor.’

His voice, just like his face, is hollow. Levi’s always been pale, but right now he looks positively grey. And yet at the same time, I don’t miss the way his step is more confident as I guide him; no wonder, he probably knows these walls just as well as he knows his own apartment. We get into the lift and I curse our luck as two students rush in just before the doors close. My head drops immediately, and I hate it. I hate that I have to show submission to someone who’s probably just around my age; somehow it makes it all the more humiliating. With the corner of my eye, I watch one of them press the ‘5’ button and the doors close.

The few seconds to the fifth floor are filled with tangible, uncomfortable silence; but perhaps it’s better that they don’t say anything. Instead, they stare, making the hairs on my neck stand up and the collar on my throat become a heavy weight, like white-hot iron. When they leave, it feels as if I can breathe properly again.

‘Are you alright?’ Levi surprises me with the question, perhaps because these are the words that I just wanted to direct at him, since he’s so pale.

‘Yeah, are… Are you? You look… nervous.’

‘I am. Alright, I mean. But nervous, too.’ He goes silent for a moment. ‘It’s just… being in this place after so long, and after what happened. It’s just. It feels weird.’

I want to tell him something – not really knowing what, but to comfort him somehow – but the elevator stops, telling us we’ve reached the eighth floor. I see three other people waiting as the door opens and I quickly bow my head once more as we rush past them. Once we’re in the hall, I ask Levi which office we need to get to, even though we’re already walking with him leading the way. ‘N815.’

Keeping my eyes on the door numbers, I’m not surprised in the slightest when we stop right in front of the one with ‘ _N815, Prof D Pixis_ ’ printed on it. ‘Do I look okay?’

His question surprises me, and I turn just in time to see him straightening his cravat and ‘dusting’ his shirt, even though both are pristine. His eyes are not hollow anymore; something akin to panic settles in them. Putting a hand on his shoulder, I try to come up with words that will be at least somewhat reassuring. ‘Levi, it’s fine. You look fine. You said you know that man, right? And that he’s reasonable? It’s just a chat today, isn’t it? You don’t have to commit to anything today.’

I watch him take a deep breath, looking like he’s mulling over my words. On one hand I’m somewhat glad to be focusing all my attention on reassuring him; it draws it away from my own nervousness of meeting the no-doubt intimidating man behind the door. ‘Alright. Alright. Let’s do it.’ And with that, he knocks three times.

My breath hitches as a muffled _‘Come in’_ is heard from the other side of the door. I watch as Levi presses the handle and pushes the door open, almost as if it’s happening in slow motion. What comes into view is a small cramped office with shelves and file cabinets, all filled to the brim with different papers, books, and documents. Right in front of us sits a rather inconspicuous-looking older man with a grey moustache, visible deep wrinkles on his face, and an almost shiny head from its lack of hair. He sits at an equally messy desk with a computer monitor slightly to the right of him. He looks up at us and smiles, his eyes squinting a bit.

‘Ah, Leviiii, good morning!’ He greets him cheerfully, getting up from his desk.

With terror, I realise I’ve been staring, making me pretty much shove my head between my shoulders in shame and fear, and put my hands behind my back. Staring at the ground with burning intensity, I can only hope that I haven’t fucked it up for Levi just yet.  

The man comes to stand in front of us and the tip of his black shoes come into my view. I stay still and silent.

‘It’s so good to see you, it’s been such a long time. You’re looking well.’

Levi huffs. ‘Wish I could verify and say the same about you.’ My stomach fills with dread at his words, and an uncomfortable silence falls in the room for a second, but Levi breaks it with a small laugh. ‘I’m kidding, let’s not make this awkward. So, say; are you still sporting that embarrassing moustache, old man?’

Professor Pixis laughs at that. ‘That I am, that I am. Gotta keep up my legendary image.’ My blood runs cold when his laughter dies off and I can feel the inevitable approaching. ‘And who’s this young man?’

Air rushes out of my lungs and I feel my entire chest cave in under the weight of the attention focused on me now. And yet at the same time, I don’t miss the way he said _who_ and a _man_ , not _what_ and a _boy_ , as many people have in the past. Levi’s hand rests on my shoulder, and I can’t decide if it’s comforting in these circumstances or the opposite; but with the way I feel light-headed and close to collapsing from anxiety, I’m guessing it’s the latter.

‘This is Eren, my…’ I hold my breath. ‘My valuable help and friend. He’s been living with me since last September.’

‘Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Eren, my name’s Dot Pixis.’

To my utter shock, an extended hand comes into my field of view. Eyes wide, I keep my head down and swallow twice, hoping that my voice will work properly even though my throat feels as if I just ate sand. Tentatively, I take a hold of his hand and he gives me a firm handshake.

‘I- It’s an honour t-to meet you, sir.’ I speak to the floor as I bring my hand back behind me.

Again, the man laughs. ‘No need to be so formal, Eren. No need to keep your head down, either.’

His words should have been comforting – and to an extent, they are – but mainly they stab me in the gut with how _to the point_ he is. Not wanting to seem as if I’m rude and rejecting his offer, I lift my head up a bit but still keep my eyes glued to the ground, not having the courage to meet his. ‘Thank you, sir.’ My words are quiet, and I hope I sound respectful.

‘Alright, have a seat, lads. Let’s talk business!’ Once I guide Levi to his seat and sit down in the other, with my leash awkwardly dangling over the armrest, I fix my gaze on the edge of Pixis’ desk, resigning myself to being completely motionless and silent for the next whatever amount of time, not wanting to get in the way of their conversation. ‘Care for a biscuit, Levi? It’s the cream and cherry ones.’

Carefully, I look up for a moment, not expecting that turn of events. ‘Tch. Damn you, you know me too well. All those years, and you still know my weakness.’ Even though he grimaces, he still reaches out, palm up for the older man to place the treat in his hand. Once he does, he turns the packet towards me, shaking it a little. ‘Eren? Want some?’

There’s that feeling again; the feeling of being like a deer caught in the headlights. Honestly, I couldn’t care less for the biscuit; I just want to make the _right_ decision – it is okay for me, as a slave, to accept it? Will it be impolite _not_ to? Torn and conflicted, I look to Levi. He must be a mind reader, because I see him giving me the smallest nod as he wipes phantom crumbs from the corner of his lips. This gives me a little confidence and I manage to reach out for the biscuit with a slow but still steady hand. ‘T-Thank you, sir.’

‘Help yourself to more if you want.’ He puts the colourful foil packet on the desk and then turns to Levi. I nibble at the treat slowly, crumb by crumb, keeping myself busy while listening carefully to their conversation. ‘Well, Levi, first of all, let me just say once again that I’m delighted you decided to get in touch again. It really is good to see you managing despite… everything that had happened. I’m sure it must have been a challenge for you to come here again.’

‘Alright, alright, just… Tell me what the presentation is about for now.’

‘Right. Well, you remember your placement in the hospital during your undergrad? Remember that X-ray machine?’

Levi groans. ‘God, of course. It was like my family for these four months. Had to get to know it inside out, every piece of it, that bastard.’

‘Exactly. See, the ward is getting a new one, and that one is being moved to another, smaller hospital. What both the hospitals asked us to do is to organise a training on campus, on both the new and old machines; for physicians, technicians, medical students, radiology students, and what have you. Now we’d have someone else covering the new machine, but since you’re such an expert on that old one, I think you’d be the perfect person to lecture the guys from that smaller hospital, with a short introduction to the theory behind X-ray production process and imaging and the likes. For the students, primarily. Especially the medical ones. God knows they’ve been running away from physics their whole lives.’

The biscuit is finished by now, letting me focus on the slightly worrying fact that Levi has actually not replied for a long time. ‘And when is that presentation?’

‘In three weeks, or thereabouts.’

‘I see.’ Levi exhales slowly. ‘I have one condition, though.’

‘Sounds dangerous. But alright, spill it.’

Again, it takes Levi a moment to start speaking again, as if he’s finding it difficult to find the right words. ‘Eren will be there with me, as my assistant. He’ll have to help me preparing the power point, and I know I’ll need his assistance with delivering the actual presentation, too. He’s been learning lots about physics, so he’s quite knowledgeable. Besides… if it weren’t for him, I never would have emailed you. He was the one who encouraged me.’

Bringing my shoulders back to my ears and bowing my head again, I put all of my effort into _not_ shaking; all the attention being focused on me again is definitely not something I’m a fan of. Also, did Levi not say too much? About educating me? Isn’t that breaking one of the biggest taboos? Slaves are slaves because they are poor _and uneducated_ ; isn’t that how it goes?

The older man only hums thoughtfully, so Levi speaks up again. ‘It should be fine and legal, once you issue and sign some sort of permission or whatever, as the head of the department, right? No one will question it if he’ll be officially allowed to be there.’

Pixis finally sighs heavily. ‘Okay. How about this; give me some time to think this through. I’ll get back to you, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.’

 

 

Professor Pixis keeps his promise and emails Levi the following morning. While Levi listens to the message through the earphones and I read it over his shoulder, he smiles. He genuinely smiles. I’ve officially received permission to assist Levi during his presentation. He pulls me down for a kiss, although it’s more of a joyful grinning against one another’s lips than kissing.

And yet, I find myself not sharing his enthusiasm to the fullest, without really knowing why. This is an advancement, this is progress, this is _good_. So why are my instincts screaming at me that it isn’t?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first of all, sorry for taking ages, it's been almost a month :c And sorry that it's perhaps not as eventful; I still hope you guys liked it a bit ^^'' (I have to admit that I enjoyed writing all the whump and all the dark stuff; we haven't had that for a good while here lol) The next one should be more interesting, I hope ^^''' Again, thank you for all your support! Lots of love ❤  
> EDIT (28/11/17): I'm really sorry, I haven't updated in over a month.. I *have not* abandoned this story, it's just that uni is really merciless :( I might be able to update in around 2-3 weeks or so. Again, thank you to all of those who haven't fully lost interest yet <3


	19. The Assistant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for such a long break :( But thank you so much to those still reading, despite the slow updates <3  
> And also, apologies for this chapter.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2UGlSHe0_U (The Long Dark - Wintermute Theme)

The worry I had slowly withers away with each passing day as I turn my attention to doing my best in helping Levi prepare the presentation. Granted, that also comes with a certain degree of guilt at first; of course, with me being so useless, Levi has to spend some time initially on teaching me how to actually use the software – as always, he doesn’t mind and is infinitely patient, but I still feel bad when he sits me down and introduces me to the basics. What makes me feel a bit better is the fact that, apparently, the basics is as much as I need for now; putting text, videos and images, switching slides – doesn’t seem like there’s much more to it.

‘See? It’s not too hard. Anyway, on the day, the most you’ll interact with the slideshow itself will be changing slides with this one remote, or starting and pausing videos, in case the laptop won’t cooperate and won’t respond fast enough when I press the button myself, or whatever.’

‘Okay, okay.’

‘Right.’ He yawns, stretching his arms above his head and I automatically do the same. ‘I’m gonna work on some writing now. If you’ll get really bored, have a look through some books to put together an introduction to X-rays, ’kay? That’ll be a good presentation opening. We can start on the slideshow itself tomorrow.’

‘Alright, I’ll do that.’

‘Thanks, Eren.’

Getting up, I linger at my chair awkwardly for the shortest moment, wanting to stay for another little while but not really knowing what to say – but before I can even decide what’s going to come out of my mouth, Levi’s documents are already out on the screen and the earphones are in his ears. I put a lot of effort into not letting this put a damper on my mood, forcefully dismissing the brief feeling of déjà vu from the times before we became close; times when he would just give me a job to do without saying much else. They weren’t bad times by any stretch of the imagination – the only thing that makes me flinch at such recollections is the memory of the paralysing fear that haunted me every hour of the day; fear of screwing up, fear of being disrespectful, fear of being punished, fear of being thrown out – fear of genuinely everything and existence itself. The anxiety was so overwhelming back then that I can taste it even now, numbing and bitter, and feel my muscles twitch with phantom adrenaline at the mere thought of it.

But I shake myself and consciously talk myself out of the memories; sure, Levi is busy. The presentation is an extra – he still has his article-writing job, and that needs to be done, too. The best I can do is help him out like he asked me to and lift the tiniest bit of workload from his shoulders. With that thought, I leave the room before I linger for too long.

Being like Levi’s proper apprentice, I bury myself in physics books and make it my life’s mission to write the best introduction to radiation and X-rays that the scientific world has ever seen. _Hell, I’ll make it so good that even Levi will learn something new!_ Snickering to myself at the silly thought, I lose all track of time and only get a grip on it when it becomes dark and my eyes itch with fatigue from reading text in dim light.

Realising how late it became, I dart to Levi’s room, shouting from the doorway already. ‘I’m so sorryyy! I forgot dinner! Ahh, just give me twenty minutes, I’ll make something quick, okay?’

As I catch my breath after my flailing, it is only now that I notice that the man is _still_ at his computer, although slightly slouched – so unusual to see him with anything less than a perfect posture. ‘Oh… Is it already that late? Didn’t even realise… It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m not even that hungry, no rush.’

I frown but my shoulders ease up. ‘Oh. Okay, then. Anything particular you want to eat?’

‘Not really. Whatever you feel like making.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘Besides, you know I’ll happily eat anything you make.’ He adds it like an afterthought, as if he didn’t want to seem all that disinterested. Still, I hear the small smile in his voice.

‘Alright. I’ll call you when I’m done.’

Honestly, I’m not sure if he hears that as he becomes engrossed in his work once more. Trying not to dwell too much on it, I make my way to the kitchen, opting to make pancakes. Not the healthiest option, but they’re quick and yummy and Levi loves them – with cherry jam, of course – and I feel like he more than absolutely deserves something tasty after working so hard all day.

Dinner gets made in no time and as I set the plates I get excited about finally being able to spend some time with Levi today since most of it was taken up by him writing and me researching – it makes me feel somewhat silly at being so needy, but what can I say? Nothing makes me happier than spending time with him.

Levi being Levi, he doesn’t engage in much small talk, especially when we eat, so dinner is a quiet affair, but I don’t mind in the slightest. I appreciate those quiet moments when we just _are_ ; when I’m able to just quietly admire and watch the man I love with silent awe and wonder. It’s just one of the things on the endless list of what I love about him; he doesn’t try and fill each moment with words; his voice, of course, is the most comforting sound in my life, but sometimes words are just redundant and unnecessary. This is one of those quiet moments, and I find myself savouring every second of it - even more so now that I expect Levi will probably be working until late evening and will want to not be disturbed; he seems to be on a real writing roll today. And that’s fine, of course. Not my place to be complaining, anyway. And yet, my body still does sag with some kind of heavy discontent when Levi places his knife and fork beside each other on the empty plate. He thanks me for the meal with a small smile on his face, which makes me feel a bit better – at least now he’ll have more energy for work.

‘I’m sorry.’

That’s not really what I expected. ‘Hm? What do you mean?’

‘Ah, I just. Feel bad. It’s like… Like you helped me go back to the university again, and now that I have that, I just. It looks as if I’m happy with that now, and as if I don’t need you anymore and don’t want to spend time with you. Because I got what I wanted from you, and now just-’

‘Hey. Levi.’ I need him to stop. Partially because hearing him sound so genuinely conflicted and troubled is hard to bear, but also because he was exposing the reflexive fears that I’m subconsciously fighting – they’re there, deep in my bones, not caring that the man in front of me looks utterly heartbroken at the mere possibility that I could have such thoughts. ‘That’s just silly. You must know that, right? You have a lot on your plate now. So just… Don’t worry so much, yeah?’ I lean in to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

He sighs in reply, not looking entirely convinced just yet. ‘I’ll make it up to you. When this is all over.’

I smile fondly at him. ‘I know you will.’

 

After learning the basics, over the next few days we’re finally able to start working on the presentation itself. Taking it bit by bit, it doesn’t actually seem that scary. What surprises me though, are all the different rules Levi keeps throwing at me every couple of minutes. ‘Not too much text or images on one slide. Keep the colour scheme simple and consistent, preferably a white background with dark text; a tiny, tiny accent, or the university logo in the same spot is acceptable. Blue accents are most preferable. _Did you know that statistically, on average, blue is no one’s least favourite colour? Use blue, Eren_. Never, ever use dark background and light text. No matter how tempting it is, do not use fancy animations or transitions. Do not use a font called _comic sans_ under any circumstances.’ The list seems to have no end, and at some stage it starts to become entertaining where I find myself guessing what other rule he’ll remember next. All of them have me completely confused, but as Levi helpfully fills me in, it’s all about the slides being legible and clear to the audience. Fair enough – he’s the expert here, and I enjoy following his lead. As always.

When he listens to the introduction I put together earlier, his praise turns me into the happiest person on earth. Here’s Levi, the absolute master of physics, complimenting what I wrote – it takes all of my willpower to not squee and jump up and down in my seat like a child. We end up omitting or rephrasing some parts, and I drink in all of his advice with unwavering attention. I’ll never be as intelligent or as educated as he is, but I want to do my best; both for myself and for him, so that he won’t have to be ashamed of having me as his assistant – for this project, or for any other possible ones in the future.

We’re far from done when we call it a day with the presentation, only having a few slides done, since Levi is still writing up and researching the information, all the while having to do his article-writing. Figuring that he knows what he’s doing and that we’ve got lots of time anyway, I’m about to leave him to it and maybe continue reading this one book Hanji recently bought for me before he stops me.

‘Hm? What do you need?’ I hop back over to his desk.

‘Do you want me to help you make an email account?’

I shake my head in a bit of a shock, blinking. Well, that was unexpected. Did I even hear that right? Where did that come from? ‘Huh?’ Eloquent, as usual.

‘Here, sit down again for a minute.’ Blinking a few more times and deciding to just not question it, I do as he asks, sitting in the chair beside his, that we’ve now pretty much permanently moved from the kitchen to his room since I’m spending so much time working with him by his desk. It makes me smile a bit. ‘I was thinking that you could keep in touch with, say, Armin and the others like that? You know, some of the people you’ve met at the New Year’s party? What do you think?’ He asks me that as if he isn’t already opening up a web page.

‘Um… Okay?’ Getting in touch with the blond nerd would be great; as much as I love talking to Levi and Hanji and spending time with them, it would probably be healthy to have some other people to talk to; that’s the reason why Levi forced me to go there in the first place, wasn’t it? Still, I hold back a snort. Just how much things have changed in those months – I never thought I’d dare to ask for more than I already have. ‘Is it okay, though? Am I allowed?’

‘I don’t really see a reason why not. It’s not like they’re gonna chase everyone with an email account and check their legal status. Actually, it’s not like they can identify you using that, really. Not if you don’t provide any personal information. So don’t worry.’

His small encouraging smile reassures me a bit. Not questioning the randomness of the offer, I pull my chair up closer and together we go through with yet another step of making me seem like a normal part of society.

 

The next couple of days are spent in a similar manner; studying, working with Levi, reading books, some cleaning and cooking. After working up the courage to message Armin using my newly-made email – it took a bit of convincing on Levi’s part that the blond boy would, in fact, be happy to keep in touch with me – I’m surprised to see how quickly he replied; just a few hours later. It makes me laugh how his personality shines through his excited email; he tells me about all the assignments he has for college and how exhausted he is, how he is running on caffeine, four hours of sleep, and how his grandpa is the only reason he eats something else other than instant noodles. He seems happy though, excitedly describing the things he’s learning and the projects he’s working on. By the end of the email he even mentions that we should meet up some time, that this time Levi and I should visit them together. When I tell Levi about the email, he smiles at the offer, deciding that we’re indeed overdue to pay them a visit and that we should fix it after the presentation, when we have more time. He seems genuinely pleased that I got back in touch with Armin, but I can’t help but feel as if there’s a slightest falter to his smile, something wavering and insecure.

After wrecking my head for most of the day, a possibility finally dawns on me; I remember him suggesting that perhaps I liked Armin, as his final attempt to prevent me from sleeping with him, to convince me that I didn’t actually want it. Is he now considering the possibility that maybe I’ll want to get closer with the blond and leave Levi behind? As if I could. Heart-shattering affection makes me almost double over; he considered it, and yet he encouraged me – especially now that Levi is working a lot, so I might feel a bit more lonely. Still, on one hand, his lack of faith in my love for him somewhat hurts me, but when I think through it more thoroughly… I can’t really blame him. Not after he told me how detached and abandoned he feels by the world sometimes, without his sight. His insecurities are a part of him, and the only thing I can do is offer constant reassurance. So, when we make love that night, I make sure to hold him tight, kiss him breathless, and tell him how much I adore him, until his smile is wide and bright and _genuine_ once more.

 

‘Hey, Levi, wanna take a break?’ I let myself into the man’s – our? – room without knocking. ‘They’re showing The X Files on the TV again.’

Levi doesn’t turn away from his computer as he speaks. ‘Ah… I think I’ll pass this time.’

‘No way, it’s your favourite episode! You know, with Mulder’s sister and all.’ He adores that episode. Whenever that legendary – apparently – soundtrack by Moby comes on, he can visualise the haunting, heart-breaking scene in his mind with startling accuracy, as he told me once. The most shocking part though, was the wetness that I saw in his eyes during one of the times we watched it. For a moment, I was lost for words, and perhaps that was for the better, as I ended up saying nothing, sparing Levi the embarrassment which he’d most certainly feel, if the way he pretended to hide it by turning his head and leaning it on his hand was any indication. Honestly, that only made me love him more; him and his beautiful sensitive heart. Anyway, the bottom line is that Levi would never miss this episode.

But apparently the world is ending. ‘Um… Really, not this time. Sorry, Eren, I just… I gotta finish this.’

I slump against the doorframe, sighing dejectedly, worry gnawing at my insides. ‘Aren’t you working yourself a bit too much? You should give yourself a bit of a break now and then…’

‘I’m… sorry. It’s just-’ He turns his face slightly towards me, so that I can see his somewhat forced smile. ‘Thanks to you I just feel so inspired to write now, knowing I can do a job at the university, even if it’s small.’

He’s trying to turn it into something positive, but I’m not falling for it one bit. ‘ _Leviii_ … Stop that. I mean, it’s great, but. But it’s not good for you. I’m really worried.’

That smile disappears, and something almost close to guilt replaces it. ‘I didn’t mean to worry you. Sorry.’

‘I know.’ I keep my voice soft, wanting him to know that an apology is not what I actually want from him. ‘I just wish you’d take better care of yourself.’

‘I’m fine. Really, I mean it. After we’re done with that presentation, everything will come back to normal, and we’ll have more time for ourselves again. I’ll make you happy, then.’

Even though he probably didn’t mean for that to happen, there’s a sharp splinter in my heart at his words. ‘You _are_ making me happy, though.’

‘Yeah, but. You deserve more.’ He smiles at me genuinely then, before fully turning back to his computer and putting in his earphones to listen to what he’s writing. His strange words leave me baffled; I don’t really know what he means, or where this came from, why he said this. Still, looks like there’s nothing I can do right now, so with a sigh I make my way back to the kitchen, doing my best to not feel upset and to believe Levi’s words.

Thinking about it rationally, there isn’t really much evidence to support my worries; he really _seems_ fine; he still manages to function just as well on his lowered dose of antidepressants – despite the stress – and he eats regularly; neither did he have any breakdowns or particularly hard days. I find myself frowning, wondering where this sudden strength comes from. Is he pretending, or is it genuine? And if it is, will he crash at some stage? Or maybe I’m just severely overthinking this? Levi is an almost invincible man, after all. He went through hell and back – the darkness and remnants of which haunt him every minute of his life – and yet he still achieved so much, in such a short amount of time. Perhaps I should give him more credit.

 

Just as I decide to stop worrying, things change over the next couple of days. Our presentation is more than half way done, and we still have somewhere over two weeks left. Despite that, Levi becomes visibly stressed – visible to me, anyway, as to someone who continuously spends time with him and sees the smallest deviation from his usual, normal behaviour; even if he tries so well to hide it all. Maybe he thinks that I don’t see the way he jiggles his leg, with the TV distracting me – as if. Perhaps he thinks his frown as he chews his food and gets lost in thought is subtle. Or that I don’t hear his quiet phone calls to Hanji in the middle of the night. At first, it hurts. Especially the calls; what is it that he can tell Hanji, but cannot tell me? My mind is of course quick to supply me with a skin-crawling answer; I’m a slave after all; insignificant and not trustworthy like his engineer friend. The thought turns my insides sour as I curl up under the sheets and scratch at my bare neck to remind myself that the collar is missing, and that Levi has been the one to remove it. That we made love after that, and that we continue to hold each other every night.

_That’s it. He got bored of you; he’s keeping you around just for sex, but he doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even trust you._

I tug at my hair, Levi’s quiet voice from the kitchen only making me pull harder. I don’t even know what he’s talking about; his words are too brief, too quiet, too muffled by the door separating us. My breathing becomes heavy, and there’s a familiar tightness in my muscles, and I can’t unclench my jaw. Standing at the edge of a panic attack, I can only pray it goes away before it overwhelms me.

And yet, somehow in this miserable state and through the white noise in my head, I hear the chair scraping against the floor in the kitchen, and Levi’s quiet footsteps. The terror of being found in such a state and of making the man worry even more – _he wouldn’t worry; why would he worry about you? He doesn’t care_ – makes me scramble for a pillow and lay on my side, to pretend to be asleep. But it’s hard to force myself to not react in any way when he lays back in the bed, shuffling closer to me, resting his hands and forehead against my back – in my mind’s eye, I see him curled up against me; not embracing me, as if not wanting to wake me. At this moment, I can barely do anything but marvel at my boundless stupidity; it’s not true. It’s not true that he doesn’t care about me; not true that he doesn’t trust me and that he keeps me around just for sex. There is some sort of problem – _Levi’s_ experiencing a problem – and here I am, making it all about myself again. But that’s over. I’m going to help him, whether he wants it or not.

 

Initially, I don’t call him out on his odd behaviour, knowing I would only get reassurance of everything being fine, instead of a straight answer. For the next two or three days, I make his favourite foods, put extra care into cleaning, and try to convey as much love through my kisses at night as I can, all the while coming up with a plan on how to address the issue.

It turns out I took too long. ‘Eren, uh. This is gonna be very sudden, but… You’ll have to stay at home on your own for the night, I’ll- I’ll have to leave- Will you be alright?’

In the span of less than a second I experience what seems like the majority of human emotion spectrum; utter shock at what I’ve just heard; worry about the reason why; slight irritation, that he would assume I won’t be able to normally handle being alone for a few hours, followed immediately by embarrassment about the fact that he is, in fact, correct in that assumption. There’s a swirling mix of feelings that I don’t even bother to identify, but the confusion overwhelming everything makes my voice hesitant. ‘W-wha- why?’

Levi rubs his neck, looking guilty. ‘I’m sorry. It’s… It’s Hanji, uh…She’s been sick for the past two days or so, and she’s really at her worst today, so I offered to go over for the night and take care of her. Moblit is away for the week on a business trip, see. Just- Just really bad luck, you know. She didn’t even protest too much, so I guess it’s really serious.’

‘I’ll- I’ll go with you! We can both help her?’ For some reason, I have a feeling he won’t be swayed, but I try anyway.

And I was right. ‘No, no, I wouldn’t want you to get sick, too. Not too long ago, you were still quite weak health-wise; I don’t want to risk it.’ I accidentally make a terribly undignified sound in the back of my throat, resembling something like a sad whine. ‘Eren… Please understand.’

Squeezing my eyes shut, I grit my teeth. It’s fine. I can be mature. But what if- ‘C-can I at least walk you to the bus stop?’ The realisation of how utterly idiotic that question was makes me cringe before it even fully leaves my mouth. ‘Ah… Of course not. I can’t walk around outside alone, I’m. I’m a slave. E-eh, I’m so silly, hah, my bad.’ With my voice wavering like that, trying to laugh it off is a pitiful attempt; not understanding why I even got worked up so much over it doesn’t make it better either.

My heart is irrationally heavy, but Levi’s strong, solid embrace is a warm comfort. ‘It’ll just be a couple of hours, I promise. I’ll take the earliest bus back possible; I’ll try to be back before you’ll even wake up in the morning.’ He rubs my back and I curl into him, which is just a bit awkward with me being taller. I sigh, and when he feels me relax, he lets me go and takes my hand instead. ‘Come on for a sec.’

I let him drag me to his room and sit on the edge of the bed while he rummages through the bottom drawer of his desk. Silently I watch his upturned face, looking like someone searching for something in the middle of the night and not looking down to allow their senses of touch and sound only to guide them. In pure darkness; that’s exactly where Levi is. It’s odd, that such small things can still strike me that strongly and make my heart quake so painfully. A brief thought appears in my head, that no matter how many years I should spend by his side – if he’d desire to have me around for so long – I’d never be able to fully make peace with Levi’s pain; I’d never get rid of the wish for revenge on the world that caused the man I love so much suffering. But of course, the man himself is naturally oblivious to my inner mental struggle, and simply keeps searching for another short second before fishing out a small dark object that I don’t have enough time to identify; it disappears in his hand as he walks over to his nightstand by the bed, and starts searching through that, too. Curiosity almost pushes me to ask him the purpose of his searching, but he seems so focused that it’s giving me an impression that he shouldn’t be disturbed. My eyes wander idly around the room as I wait, but I perk up when I hear keys jingling. Levi speaks my name.

‘Yes?’ I answer to help him localise me. He walks around the bed and slowly seats himself beside me on the edge of the mattress. Extending his arm towards me, he holds out the initial object to me. I frown, seeing a black mobile phone in his hand, and yet I still ask stupidly. ‘Hm? What? What’s that?’

‘A phone. I used it before I. Before I lost my sight. It was too old to upload all the apps that I needed to operate it, but I still kept it at the bottom of the drawer. For whatever reason.’ He shakes it a little in his hand. ‘Here, take it.’

Uncertain, I do as he says, studying the small blocky object with withered buttons, the numbers on them slightly faded through heavy use; particularly numbers 1 and 4. ‘Um… Okay, but why?’

‘I want you to have it in case you need to call me. Yeah, we have the landline, but that’d be useless in, say, case of a power outage. I don’t really remember when was the last time there was a power outage in this building, but I don’t wanna risk it. I’ll feel calmer knowing you have more than one way of contacting me, should anything happen.’

His words take me completely by surprise, but I’d be lying if they don’t immediately put me somewhat more at ease, too. I laugh lightly. ‘Wow, Levi. You really do think of everything. Thank you, this- you know, this’ll make me feel much safer.’

‘Ah… That’s the least I can do, when I leave you alone like that. And also, here. Spare house keys.’ He holds out two gold-tinged keys, dangling on a dark blue keychain. That item is way more confusing, but he explains it before I get a chance to enquire. ‘Now, these- These are really for an emergency. To be honest, I don’t really have a hypothetical scenario to give you here as to why you might need them, but. But just in case you do. In case something extremely unexpected and out of the ordinary should happen, and you’d need to… leave. On your own. In the middle of the night.’ He trails off, sounding strangely distant and somewhat uncertain, before continuing. ‘Besides, you’ve been living here for a good while now, so I think it makes sense for you to have your own set of keys. Just in case.’ I don’t argue with him about how it doesn’t really make sense for a slave to have house keys. ‘So keep them around, in your jacket, or whatever.’

I take the second odd ‘gift’, deeply in thought. Somehow, it feels like a massive step; like something important has just taken place – something significant on a more deep and symbolic level than just getting a set of keys. It is yet another proof of Levi’s utter _trust_ ; the realisation of just how much faith he places in me sets my bones alight. I could just leave. Of course, I could leave any time even without this extraordinary present, but now I could leave and _come back;_ I could come back whenever he wouldn’t be expecting it – I could do anything, from setting his apartment on fire, killing him in the middle of the night, to giving the keys away to some shady people on the street who would rob him, in exchange for helping me get a train ticket and get out of the city, as far away from Levi as possible. I cringe; these are such ridiculous psychotic idiocies – but the fact is that I _could._ But he trusts me. Not only that, but it’s yet another thing that gives me the precious invaluable illusion that we’re just a normal, ordinary couple living together, and that I’m not a sub-human purchased from a brothel.

‘Levi, you- you do so much for me. I really appreciate it, you know?’ I snicker. ‘Ah, of course you know, since I keep babbling things like that at you; not like I can do much more, right?’ The awareness of my inability to sufficiently repay all my debts to Levi is yet another issue that will always bother me.

His hand finds its way to my hair to ruffle it lightly. ‘I just want you to feel safe.’ He smiles softly, messing up my locks again. ‘Your hair is getting kind of long, isn’t it? Does it bother you? Would you want to get it cut?’

I watch his hand as he twirls a lock of my hair between his fingers. I haven’t really paid any attention to it, but it’s definitely true; now all my strands reach below my chin, but are still a bit away from touching my shoulders. I decide that I don’t mind; or more accurately, I don’t really care. Besides, I’m quite certain that if I were to request a haircut, Levi would stand on his head to find some ‘slave-friendly’ place that would do it for me, and I want to spare him the trouble – there really isn’t any need for that.

‘Naah, it’s fine. I don’t mind.’ I bring my hand to his hair too, scratching lightly at his overgrown undercut – which really couldn’t be called that anymore, I suppose. ‘Your hair is getting a bit longer, too. Are you planning on getting your undercut done again?’

‘Hmm, don’t know. Did you like it?’

‘Everything looks good on you.’ I see him shiver just slightly, and little goosebumps jumping out on his arms when I graze my dull nails at the base of his skull. ‘But yeah, I think it really suited you, you know?’

‘I’ll get it done again then.’ His warm smile melts me, and I momentarily mourn at the fact that it’s over so quickly when he gets up. ‘Alright, I’ll go get my phone; you can copy all the contacts onto that one. I’ve got Armin’s in there too, so copy that one as well; and keep that phone even after I come back. It won’t be any harm for you to have it; it’s not new or cool or anything, but… Well, it’ll serve its purpose, I guess. I’ll top it up for a tenner before I go – that should be enough for tonight anyway, yeah?’

Levi doesn’t wait for me to respond as he walks out of the room, apparently in search of his own phone. _His phone_. I know how important that device is for him, how much it helps him in his everyday life, even for such basic things like checking the time. And he _trusts_ me with it – the realisation, yet another one, makes my head spin a little. And here I was, thinking that he doesn’t love me anymore, and doesn’t trust me. But I guess things make more sense now – not only was it his work that caused him so much stress, but also his friend’s illness – which would explain all the phone calls in the middle of the night, I suppose. Perhaps Levi didn’t want me to know, not wanting to worry me; Hanji is a person dear to me too, after all. Yet, while I do worry and hope for the woman’s quick recovery, I can’t help but feel a little bit relieved that this really was the reason for Levi’s distress, alongside the work, and that in a week or two everything will simply come back to the way it was before.

 

With the way we part in the afternoon – I insisted he would leave earlier so that he would not be travelling late at night – one would assume that Levi was leaving for a month at least. I linger sadly by the door as he puts on his shoes and a light overcoat, checking his pockets for all the things he needs to take with him. I feel like there’s a literal, physical black cloud hanging above my head, weighing me down; there are brief moments where these feelings seem ridiculous to me – it’s only a couple of hours, and besides, I’ve been on my own here before, when Levi went with Hanji to get my present – which I obviously wasn’t aware of at the time. And then there was also New Year’s Eve that I’ve spent without Levi. But then again, how many months am I living here - around eight? And throughout all that time, there were only a handful of occasions when I’ve been separated from him; so can I really blame myself for being so apprehensive?

After reassuring me for the thousandth time that everything will be fine, reminding me to eat something before bed, and kissing me on the tip of my nose, he leaves. I stand there in the doorway, watching him walk down the stairs slowly, his footsteps and the gentle repetitive tapping of his cane against the floor echoing in the hall, getting quieter with each moment, until the heavy main entrance door slams closed – and just like that, he’s gone. The urge to run after him is utterly overwhelming, and I almost give into my instincts to be by Levi’s side. With the last logical conscious thought in my mind, I make myself slam the door and lock myself in the horribly quiet, now almost eerie apartment. The silence is crushing, like a dead, heavy, soggy weight, and I curl up in the corner by the door, wishing with all my heart that Levi would come back and open it any second.

I don’t know how long I’m there for, but apparently for long enough to get a chill from the floor. Reluctantly, I force myself to stand up and face the fact that Levi isn’t coming back until morning. Wrapping my arms around myself, I head into the kitchen and switch on the heating on my way. With a grimace, I make myself eat an apple – just to have it over with and keep my promise to Levi. In fact, I don’t feel like eating at all; all I want to do now is sit in the kitchen and hope to feel better by thinking of all the great times we’ve had in this small room at this wooden table. Unsurprisingly, it only makes me feel worse; thinking about Levi in his seat near me only makes me more painfully aware of how much he is _not there_ right now. I curl in on myself, spiralling down into depressive thoughts which become less and less logical and coherent with every moment. There’s a sudden nauseating fear under my skin that Levi won’t come back; not now, not in the morning, not ever. He’s not coming back, and I haven’t even parted with him properly – I’ll never see him again.

Bullshit. That’s bullshit. He’s coming back, and I’m just being a fucking child.

My chair scrapes loudly against the floor, ringing in the silence as I stand up abruptly. I head over to my room with purposeful strides, walking over to my desk – ignoring how odd the room feels, since I spend less and less time in it; I don’t remember when was the last time that I slept in here, actually – and fish out my gorgeous collar that I now only use for when we’re going outside. Without hesitation, I secure it around my neck.

The effect is immediate, like flipping of a switch. My eyes flutter closed as I exhale calmly, my head bows instinctively, and the anxiety ebbs away slowly, dripping in invisible small rivulets from my relaxed limbs as my inner storm calms. The collar grounds me. Somehow, it manages to clear my mind so that my body almost buzzes pleasantly with endorphins and the sudden lack of stress. For whatever ridiculous reason the objectification is comforting, and the symbol of ownership, freeing. I’m a slave; I’m owned, and the one that owns me, the one who gave me this collar won’t just abandon me. The soft lined leather reminds me of his presence, and despite putting noticeable pressure on my throat, it helps me breathe.

I don’t hang around in my room much longer, preferring to surround myself with anything and everything that reminds me of my lover – obviously, I trot over to his room next. After lingering awkwardly in the doorway – again – and cringing over how odd it is for me to be in this room on my own without Levi, I settle on sitting by his computer. I stall for a few moments before reluctantly switching it on; the man did give me permission to use it whenever I wanted. But still. What finally convinced me to push the button was the hope that time would fly by quickly if I busied myself with something mindless.

That’s not what I end up doing, obviously. Feeling as if someone is watching and judging me over my shoulder, I open an internet browser and decide to feed my intense curiosity. I begin typing in the search engine; _Slave-_

A number of suggestions show up in the drop down; _slave price, slave regulations, slavery, slave auction near me, slavery and ownership regulation unit_ -

Disgusting. Abhorrent. I want to vomit. Honestly, I don’t know what I expected. Something about slave rights, perhaps? Something about ending slavery? How absolutely fucking ridiculous. At that moment, I’m perfectly aware that the best course of action is to just shut down the browser, the computer, and do something productive instead of getting worked up and upset about things I’ve been forced to make peace with long ago. But there’s one search suggestion that makes a heavy dead weight settle in my stomach like a heavy rock; _slave-based experiments_.

With a baited breath and a shaky hand, I click on the suggestion and run the search. The weight rises up to my throat when I’m faced with the seemingly endless list of scientific paper titles and general articles. Every instinct screams at me to run, to go back; in the back of my mind I know that I’ll learn something that I’ll regret ever finding out about. And yet, I go on, scrolling through the website titles. A lot of the language is technical and scientific, so I end up scrolling quickly and stop at a random article, which title makes my blood run cold; ‘ _HDR brachytherapy of artificially-induced prostate tumours in slave subjects – novel ultrasound probe study’_. Against everything, I click on the link.

What I expected was a scientific paper, but it seems the link directs me to a news website article, of sorts. Passing the obnoxious banners and closing the ads, I get to the text and brace myself for the worst, hoping that I’ll be able to finish the article without gagging.

_‘Clinical trials for non-surgical treatment procedures of cancers are an undisputable necessity for novel ideas and improvements. However, patient availability and willingness to undergo non-standard and in-development methods has always been low, making it difficult and extremely slow for scientists and doctors to gather sufficient data for their experiments._

_The arrival of a new era with legal and tightly-regulated slavery allows for individuals who otherwise wouldn’t be able to positively contribute to society to speed up the much-needed scientific processes – thus, utilisation of legal slaves in clinical and scientific areas is growing steadily every year, ranging from live dissections under anaesthesia for anatomy classes for medical students, through finally fully-reliable car crash testing, to experimental disease treatments. One cancer research group at a prestigious university just outside of London has developed a new type of rectal ultrasound for high dose rate (HDR) brachytherapy for treatment of prostate cancer. During the treatment, the probe is inserted into a patient’s rectum which helps to guide hollow needles through the perineum to the prostate gland, and the radioactive seeds which are passed through those needles and delivered to the tumour location. It has been the aim of many scientists to develop the most suitable and accurate ultrasound probe for this purpose. The following is the abstract from the paper that the British research group has published in January of this year.’_

By the time I get to the end of that paragraph, my head is spinning and I feel like I’m in some alternate reality. Such things can’t possibly be happening. I’ll prove it to myself. I’ll read the abstract right now, and it will surely prove that I’ve just misunderstood things – no one purposefully causes anyone to get cancer, and there is no such thing as using living human beings as guinea pigs – with that attitude, I blink twice and scroll down to begin reading the abstract.

_‘ “The quality and effectiveness of high dose rate (HDR) brachytherapy in prostate cancer treatment depends on a complex variety of factors, one of which is the highly accurate delivery of radioactive seeds to the prostate gland in order to maximise the radiation delivered to the cancerous tissue, while at the same time minimising potential damage done to the surrounding healthy cells. This is enabled via insertion of a rectal ultrasound probe to image the prostate gland and guide the hollow needles through the perineum. In this study, we present an improved probe design capable of highly-detailed B-mode imaging with 256 grey levels, with the crystal capable of producing ultrasound waves of up to 18MHz. Clinical trials were conducted on 30 male slaves with artificially-induced prostate cancer through prolonged gamma radiation exposure (slave procurement and processing in accordance with relevant ISO standards) with half of the subjects being treated with our new 256-level 18MHz probe, while the control group was treated with the help of a 128-level 15MHz probe. Data recorded showed significant increase (assuming p <0.05) in the number of cancerous cells destroyed by radioactive seeds planted with the aid of the new 18MHz probe, compared to the lower-frequency probe. Following the trial, remaining healthy organs were harvested from the slave subjects for transplant (except for one subject where metastasis has occurred) in accordance with Optimum Slave Usage Regulations (OSUP).”_

_For those interested, the full text is linked at the bottom of this page. The research group has also documented one of their procedures in the form of a video, which you can see below. Please note that normally the procedure is carried out under anaesthesia to reduce pain and discomfort.’_

I feel sick. I’m going to pass out. This can’t possibly be real; I’ve developed schizophrenia. I’m feverish, not thinking clearly – this has to be it. I’m going to vomit. And most definitely, I’m not going to watch the video underneath the text. I won’t.

I click on the video.

It takes a few seconds for it to load, but when it does, it’s without any sort of introduction, so for the first few seconds it’s confusing to gather what’s going on and what I’m seeing. Covering my mouth – in dread or disgust, I’m not sure; perhaps both – I find that my face is wet. Tears? Sweat? Not like it matters. The only thing that matters is the shaky video, taken at an angle and showing a naked person’s spread legs on a hospital bed, secured with numerous straps to some supportive structures on the sides to keep the legs bent at the knees and lifted – the straps are way too tight; I can just about see them biting roughly into the slave’s skinny legs. I can see a catheter tube protruding from the man’s penis, which makes me shudder at my own painful memories. The frame cuts off anything above the slave’s waist, but I’m sure there are more straps and restraints. Between the man’s – boy’s? – legs there’s a man in a white coat and teal rubber gloves with some odd machine beside him. He momentarily faces the camera holding up what appears to be the ultrasound probe of interest; he turns it this way and that, saying something, perhaps explaining what’s about to take place – I can’t hear him. The only thing I can hear is the barely audible whimpering somewhere off camera. Have they gagged him? Of course they would. To my dread but also expectedly, the scientist turns around facing the tied-up man’s indecent state. I stare, transfixed with horror, as another scientist helps to keep the slave’s buttocks apart so that the first one can easily slide the probe inside the poor man’s trembling body. I can see his toes curling. Once that is in place, some more words are exchanged among the ‘professionals’. Because of how the camera is held, it is only now that I see a strange square pressed against the slave’s perineum. I hear myself whimper – or was it the slave? – when I connect the dots from the text that I’ve read and manage to predict what’s going to happen next. Surely enough, long needles are guided through spaces in the square and into the man’s body. Now I’m certain I can hear him crying, and as much as he can – which is barely any movement – he starts trashing about in pain. The disturbing number of needles that are forced into him and the thought of how much his trashing must worsen the pain finally make me smash the ‘back’ button many more times than necessary.

The terror is overwhelming. It makes me curl in on myself in Levi’s chair as I try to hold myself through my own shaking, to stop myself from falling apart. There is no more deceiving myself – this isn’t an illusion. This is what the reality is like. This is what the world agrees to. This is what’s commonplace. My own sobs echo through the room and all I wish for in that moment is Levi’s arms around me and his comforting voice. I need his pure heart again; I need to feel and see and hear the proof once more that not everyone is like this. So cruel. So heartless. So unspeakably evil. A thought makes me laugh through tears, hysterical – I’ve always thought that what was done to me in the brothel was the pinnacle of human cruelty. That it was the worst place and fate for a slave. Was I wrong? I was starved and beaten and raped, but I wasn’t experimented on and ultimately killed – how would I end up if I was taken into some clinical trial, like that poor man? With bitterness I realise that it wouldn’t be very different; in the end, I’d be cut up and discarded once I’d stop being useful – just like Jean; it would only be a matter of time, in either case. Curling my finger around my collar, I pull at it. Simultaneously I hate it, but it also calms me down yet again; once more it grounds me and fills my thoughts with Levi, pulling me away from the edge of overwhelming panic and horror. My breathing slows down to a normal pace and my other hand loses its grip on my hair.

Rolling my shoulders back and sitting up straight once again, I face the white blank page of the browser, drained of all energy from the storm of grief I just experienced. And yet, I yearn for a flicker of hope in that blinking cursor. There _must_ be hope, somewhere out there. If I can just find the right words, I’m sure I can find something that would bring back my hope in humanity; something that would show me that Levi and few of the people he surrounds himself with aren’t the only ones who aren’t complete psychopaths. My instincts scream at me that it’s only a fool’s hope – I’ll only get hurt again, and there’s no point in engaging in something so futile. I want to prove them wrong so badly. So I turn to the keyboard once more.

_‘Slave rights’._

What comes up makes a bitter and hysterical laughter bubble up from my throat.

_‘Top 10 tips for training your slave right’, ‘How to get the right slave – things to consider before purchase’, ‘Top collar for your dollar – get the right slave at the right price’, ‘Correct and humane slave disposal – what to do when you get bored of your human pet’._

Tears flow in continuous little streaks down my face, unstoppable, while I don’t even have the energy to sob as I scroll through the never-ending list of gruesome titles. It’s a morbid haze and I got caught up in the middle of it; I’m on the 7th results’ page before something stands out to me and catches my eye. _‘Last minute rescue – illegal slavery camp annihilated’_. I click on it and before the page even loads, I know I shouldn’t have.

_‘Illegal slavery is a persistent problem in almost every large city, and prisons are almost overflowing with offenders associated with such crimes. Just over a week following the New Years’ Eve was no different; last night at 10:45pm, the police and their colleagues from the SORO (Slavery and Ownership Regulation and Order) Division have uncovered yet another illegal slave camp in which 17 full citizens, ranging in age from 12 to 65, have been held captive by four illegal immigrants. Initial information predicts that the group’s aim was to transport their captives out of the country for sale on the black market. Following yesterday’s capture, the citizens have been returned to their families and homes and will receive fully-funded psychiatric care where required once their injuries are healed and they’ll be released from the hospital. All victims are stable, though two had to be put into induced comas. Public trial of the criminals is expected to take place on the 16 th of January, led by judge Darius Zackly, who’s the expert in such cases. Based on previous occurrences, it is expected that the outcome will consist of life sentences in prison for all four men.’_

I’ve had it. That’s enough. I shut off the computer.

Am I angry? Am I disillusioned? Bitter? Or drained? Broken and tired? Perhaps it’s everything at once, because it doesn’t feel as if I can describe this devastating and crushing emptiness that I feel in just one word. Despite that second article being much shorter and less graphic and, technically, not even relating to actual slaves, it hurts me just as the first one did. Somehow, the world has just turned darker. There are people out there – abundant in every large city, apparently – who treat everyone and anyone like livestock, like objects; just for money. Keith wasn’t an abnormality; in fact, his cruel personality seems to be quite common. But the only reason why this crime was considered a crime to begin with is the fact that those captured here were _full_ _citizens_ – no one would give half a fuck if _slaves_ suddenly disappeared and were injured to the point where they’re put in a coma. The final tragedy is the hypocrisy; longest possible sentences for those who engage in anything related to illegal slavery. Levi’s words when he once tried to explain it flow back to me – the society needs to believe the system is just. Slavery is right and moral as long as it’s legal; as long as it’s the _correct_ people who are enslaved. As long as the people believe they are safe and protected if they work and contribute to society. Those public trials with their extreme sentences are just for show – it’s all to show the people that despite the popularity of such crimes, the police have everything under control and always rescue the victims. Everything is fine. Slavery is fine, because it’s controlled.

My body is numb and moving almost on its own accord when I open the top drawer of Levi’s desk. It takes me a few seconds to consciously become aware of what I’m looking for – sleeping pills. I remember Levi mentioning it once that he often has trouble sleeping, so every now and again he takes those herbal non-prescription tablets. I’d die for a handful of them now; I just want to sleep until he comes back and holds me in his warm embrace, giving me once more the illusion of being safe. When I open the second drawer, I freeze momentarily when I spot what’s on the very top of the stack of papers and folders.

It’s my card for his birthday.

Suddenly everything is forgotten apart from the most intense feeling of nostalgia – is it strange to feel nostalgic about times from not even half a year back? Slowly, carefully – as if fearing that the card will fall apart or set off an alarm – I pick it up and once more, it’s December. It’s the time before we first made love, before we slept in the same bed every night. It was the time when I was still wary of him and his intentions; a time where I would still slip and call him ‘sir’ under stress and stuttered quite a lot. Time just before he gave me an unbeatable evidence of his trust in the form of an ordinary collar; without a code and without a sensor. The memory of those days should probably make my insides twist uncomfortably, and yet, things couldn’t be further from the truth. Even though it took Levi an excruciatingly long time to convince me I wasn’t brought here to be violated, I remember I could still appreciate the lack of beatings and torture and starvation, with warm food, bed, and clothes in their place. I still remember and associate that time with feeling safe, despite the continuous fears of my frayed psyche. It was the most comfortable paradox.

So it is with warm feelings and memories that I open the card, reading through the very faint blue words that I’ve written for myself as a guide, and stroking the little bumps that covered the visible letters. But the more I look at it, the more I frown. The Braille is almost flattened out under my fingers, and the blue ink is smudged horizontally. Almost as if it’s been read multiple times, or if it’s been exposed to moisture-

My shaky breath echoes in the hauntingly empty room. An unnerving image of Levi sitting where I am now, alone – when I was out having fun with Armin and his friends – and sitting here in the dark. Crying. Is it possible that my words have made him cry? I frantically re-read the faint sentences over and over again, wondering what could have possibly made him upset, but I come up with nothing. Maybe, just maybe… Is there a chance he was overcome with emotion, just like I am sometimes and end up crying? Is there a chance my mere words could induce so much feelings in him?

Once more, I glance through the last paragraph, noticing that it is definitely the most faded one. ‘ _I know I still stammer sometimes, or slip up and don’t call you by name. But Levi, for what it’s worth, I’m so happy here. I’m happy to be able to live with and cook and clean for and learn from someone as wonderful and intelligent and caring as you. Thank you. Eren.’_

_Oh, how far we’ve come – and yet, those words will forever be true._ _I’m so happy here_ _._

 

It is the most gentle kiss on my cheek that slowly pulls me out of the delicate haze of semi-consciousness in the early morning. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I’m greeted with the most beautiful sight; my Levi came back home. The man who always protects me from the horrors of the outside world, the horrors which I’ve found out about last night. The man who cares about me. The man who’s my lover. My everything. Seeing him in his room, above me – everything feels right once more.

‘You came back.’ I whisper, with an almost awe-filled whisper as a smile spreads across my face.

‘Of course I came back, how could I not. I promised you, didn’t I?’ My eyes flutter closed in utter bliss as he slowly cards his fingers through my hair, stroking it – this is the most wonderful way to wake up. Just before I almost drift off to sleep once more, Levi’s hand stills on my neck. ‘Eren, you- Why are you wearing the collar?’

I rub my eyes a little to try and wake myself up a bit. ‘Hm…? Oh, this- Yeah. I just… wanted to wear it cause it remind me of you, ‘n so I’d feel less lonely…’

A whole range of different emotions flash across Levi’s face which I can’t decipher – perhaps I’m still too sleepy. He settles for a sigh and a smile. ‘Well, I’m here now. Do you wanna take it off?’

At this time in the morning – it’s still darkish in the room – I couldn’t care less about the collar, but Levi seems to be genuinely against it, so I reach around my neck and blindly fumble with the buckle. Levi’s shoulders visibly relax when he hears the metal part clank against the nightstand. He sighs, sounding almost relieved. ‘Sorry I woke you up.’

‘Mm, mm. It’s fine.’ I stifle a yawn. ‘D’you want some breakfast?’

I’m surprised to see him slip underneath the covers beside me, still wearing his shirt and jeans. I move back a little to make some more room for him. ‘No, no, let’s sleep some more, it’s still early.’ We end up spooning, with Levi’s face nuzzled in my neck, his breath tickling my skin lightly. ‘Were you alright?’

‘Yeah, I went to bed early…’ It’s not that I want to keep secrets from him about what I did; it’s just that I don’t necessarily think he needs to know what I’ve been reading about – if he’d find out the horrible truth I’ve uncovered, I know he’d worry. ‘How is Hanji feeling?’

‘Um, she’s- Some big flu really got her. I’ve left her with soup, antibiotics, and a bunch of crappy movies to watch which will hopefully all chase the bug away.’ I giggle at his words. ‘She’s tough, I’m sure she’ll get better in no time.’

 

While it’s still a week until the presentation, the slideshow is finished later on in the day, giving us seven full days to practise and prepare, to make sure everything is top notch. Levi sends on the file to that Pixis man to verify and check – he responds within less than an hour, seemingly happy with what we’ve produced. We both sigh in relief as we read – and listen to – his reply email; it’s like some black cloud of smoke rises from our shoulders and we can breathe fresh clean air again.

Despite that, Levi’s still bogged down with writing articles and seeing him stay at the computer until the evening instead of celebrating our finished work is almost anticlimactic. But it’s fine, I understand. I just have to wait until we’re done with the actual presentation, and then everything will come back to normal. I just have to wait. So to make the time fly faster, I busy myself with making sushi for supper and baking cookies for later as a small way of celebration – this will have to do for now.

Apparently the time passed _too_ fast, and I’m too engrossed in piping icing on the cookies that I don’t hear Levi enter the kitchen behind me. ‘Eren.’

I yelp, almost jumping out of my own skin. Miraculously, I manage not to drop the piping bag or scatter the cookies and make a mess. ‘God, you scared me! You’re walking around in those socks like a ninja or something!’ I give a breathless laugh which dies immediately the moment I turn around to face him. There’s tension rolling off his shoulders in thick waves, and his unseeing eyes seem somewhat darker. Not as if they are actual tangible observations of any sort – but I know his body so well at this stage that I feel I could sense something being off even with my eyes closed right now. I’m not sure if something is _wrong_ , but I know that something is just _off._ ‘You- are you alright, Levi? You seem… tense.’

His answer is a couple of silent steps in my direction until we’re so close that my guess that what makes him stop is my body heat. I stand there, motionless and worried and curious, as he lifts his arm slowly to get a firm grip on my shoulder; not painful by any means – just firm. Somehow, it’s his brow that furrows, as if every movement is causing him some sort of strain. I can see him clenching and unclenching his jaw, and don’t dare to move.

‘Eren, I’m sorry.’

My stomach turns in on itself – is this the part where he stabs me or something? Why is he apologising? ‘W-what? For what?’

He winces, almost as if in pain. ‘I know I’ve- I’ve neglected you these days, I…’ Oh. Is _that_ what got him so worked up?

‘Levi, it’s fine, I un-’

‘It’s not!’ He raises his voice, silencing me mid-sentence and making me frown too. He’s more strung up than I initially thought. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry. Eren, I’m- I’m sorry. I know you’ve felt abandoned and alone, but _please_ believe me. Everything… Everything I’ve done over those days was for us. For you. Please, forgive me.’

The desperation in his apology almost makes my heart shatter. I bring my hand to his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb. ‘Hey, hey, hey. Deep breaths, Levi, hm? You’re working yourself up way too much over this. I… It’s true that I’ve missed spending time with you recently, but I understand. I really do; you’re the only one supporting both of us, and I understand that you had much more work than usual now. Let’s not talk about forgiveness, because there’s nothing to forgive, hm? Everything will come back to normal in a week anyway, won’t it? It’s all good, Levi, so please don’t worry.’

He leans his face into my hand, while his own moves from my shoulder to the back of my head. He murmurs, almost dreamily. ‘Yes… Everything will make a turn for the better, I promise.’

I’m not sure where he gets this certainty from; I’d be more than happy enough for things to come back to the way they were, but I don’t have much time to ponder on his words – he turns his face upwards to mine, slowly, with uncertainty; as if he isn’t sure whether I’d comply with his wish. Not wanting to keep him in suspense for a second, I lean down to gently press my lips to his.

It’s not like we haven’t kissed or made love during those last two weeks or so, but somehow his mouth tastes especially sweet tonight, after the air has been cleared between us. It’s like my old Levi came back, without me even realising he was gone. My heart flutters with warm excitement as his warm tongue touches mine, and it’s all the warning I get before his hand fists in my hair – not painfully, never painfully; just tightly enough so that I feel a tug at my scalp – before his other hand joins it quickly. The action makes me gasp, letting his tongue plunge deeper into my mouth which makes me a little dizzy and weak in the knees with how good it feels.

It’s not that the kiss is rough. It’s… persistent. Passionate. _Desperate_. Levi sucks in my air, leaving me breathless; his tongue pushes further and further as if he’s trying to reach as deep into my mouth as he can, so that I can only stand there and take it, with barely a chance at reciprocating. His fingers in my hair tighten; they clench and unclench. He’s like a barely-insulated live wire with current rushing through it, or a string under tension, ready to snap. His whole body seems to buzz with the force of desperately holding himself back – I get an unshakeable feeling that if he could, he’d tear into me and crawl into my body to get as close to my core as his could. And if I could, I would give him that. I would give him anything he wanted.

‘Eren, I… I can’t get close enough to you, I-’ Even his whisper against my lips is strained.

Ah. So I was right. Without a warning I pull him in for the tightest embrace, holding him close and secure until the pressure on our chests becomes significant enough that it’s making breathing so exhilaratingly difficult. He falters only for a while, surprised, but then presses against me just as strongly, his hands still in my hair. I close my eyes, focusing on the sounds, his touch, his smell. ‘My eyes are closed. I’m with you in the dark, Levi.’ He huffs humourlessly, utterly unconvinced. ‘I mean it. Besides the floor underneath my feet, there’s nothing else. Just you. I can feel your heart beat so strongly beside my own. Can you feel it? Honestly, I can’t tell which one is mine anymore, they’re so close. Doesn’t it feel good?’ I whisper dreamily against the side of his neck.

‘Yeah…’ He murmurs, still seeming unsatisfied. We stand like that for a while, sharing the same heartbeat before Levi becomes restless again. ‘But it’s not enough.’

All I want to do is to ease the aching desperation in his soul, his need for _something_ ; for closeness, for intimacy, for connection, and at this stage only one idea comes to mind, really. ‘Levi, do you want- I’ll go take a shower, and then we can go to bed?’ It’s been a while since he topped but I feel like it’s something that he might need now.

His answer leaves his lips before I even close mine. ‘Don’t leave me.’

I want to wail as my heart shatters at his distressed plea – one which I’ve heard many times before. ‘Shh. Come with me, then.’

It takes a little bit of time to coax the man to let go of me so that we could make our way to the bathroom. Determined, I try to keep the thoughts and worry about his behaviour in the back of my mind – not as if it works. Is it because he threw himself into his work again and pretty much isolated himself from the world like that once more? Is it the stress of the approaching visit at the university? Is it the worry about Hanji’s illness? Is it everything at once? Does he just need some release and break from it all? Will he be better after tonight? Is it just a once-off peak of all the negative emotions? Or will he need more time – and perhaps his old dose of antidepressants – to recover? So much for keeping the thoughts on the back burner.

The shower in the main bathroom isn’t particularly large, but it’s big enough for the two of us to just about fit without bumping into each other with every movement. While I work fast to wash myself thoroughly, Levi’s movements are a bit more sluggish, as if he’s lost in thought – but I wouldn’t dare rush him. Just when my head happens to be momentarily down, a hand slams into my shoulder at flying speed as the man gasps my name. Absolutely confused, I look up to his wide, almost panicked eyes and hope that my silence will prompt him to give me some sort of explanation.

‘You’re… here.’

I’m not entirely certain whether it’s a question, but I feel compelled to answer anyway. ‘Y…yeah?’

He squeezes my shoulder gently. ‘You’re… You’re _real.’_

Now I’m completely at a loss. ‘Of course- of course I’m real, Levi. Tell me, please tell me what’s wrong, you’re- you’re worrying me.’

His expression changes slightly, but visibly enough for me – as if he’s withdrawing into himself. ‘I… Sometimes it’s just. Ah, it’s stupid.’

‘Please, Levi.’ Normally I wouldn’t push, but I need to know what’s going on. ‘You’re really scaring me today- Please.’

He removes his hand from my shoulder and rubs his other arm, looking awkward and lost. ‘Sometimes I fear that I’ve dreamt you up, that my _remaining_ senses are lying to me, that- that you’re not here.’

Suddenly the steam isn’t warm anymore – instead, it feels more like a mist of ice particles settling over my shoulders and back as I remember Levi’s words from weeks ago.

_Somewhere, on some subconscious level I felt abandoned by… by everyone, by the whole world, when I lost my sight. They all left me behind in this darkness, all alone again. When you’re stuck in infinite darkness like this and can’t see the world around you, you sometimes feel you can’t trust anything. Even the things you thought you knew._

I wonder whether it’s tears or the water from the shower that run down my face at that moment. In the next, the man is in my arms again as I cling to him for dear life – whether saving him or myself from falling apart, I’m not sure. ‘I’m here, Levi. I’m real. I’ll be here for as long as you want me, please just- Just always remember that. I won’t leave you, ever. I promise. I swear on my life.’

He relaxes in my embrace, mouthing at my neck and close to my ear with the softest, trembling sigh. ‘Love me, Eren.’

We barely dry ourselves off before heading off to the bedroom, hands intertwined. It’s like a pleasant, dream-like misty haze; I’m only dimly aware of laying down on my back and Levi settling above me as I part my legs willingly for his lube-covered fingers to prepare me while his chest still presses closely to mine. It’s as if the physical bodily aspect is only a formality compared to the deeper connection that tonight’s honest conversations allowed us to make. Which is not to say I could possibly dismiss the bone-deep pleasure that his intimate touch brings. It feels like forever and no time at all before he stretches me with three fingers. I hold back a hiss at the minor burn which I don’t mind in the slightest but which I know would make Levi stop to ask if I’m fine. I don’t want him to stop – I know he needs this, and he needs this _now_.

He kisses me through the initial stretch as he finally presses into me with thrumming urgency and leaves me gorgeously lost in the sensations; once more, his smell, his taste, his body – it’s everywhere in me and around me. When our lips part momentarily for a breath, somehow his fingers end up in my mouth and I suck at them with vigour, pulling in as much of him inside me as I can. His broken gasp close to my ear reminds me how wonderfully sensitive his fingers are, encouraging my tongue to become more creative in its caress of his skin. Our hearts hammer beside each other as we move together, chest to chest. The hushed rustling of sheets against our overheated bodies as we writhe together is an exhilarating sound, along with our laboured breathing and quiet creaking of the bed.

Soon enough, Levi’s hips stutter, his thrusts lose their rhythm as his movements become erratic; his body fights to choose between thrusting and chasing that delicious friction, and staying still and deep inside my soft wet warmth. Unable to keep up with the pace of our kiss, he lays his head beside mine with his lips close to my ear, allowing me to hear all the gorgeous, desperate and needy sounds he makes. His breath-taking unravelling makes my breath hitch and my thighs quake around his hips. I wrap myself around his body which sings to me so beautifully – I feel more in tune with it than with my own; I can feel his desperation and how close he is.

‘That’s it, Levi, do it.’ I graze my nails lightly against his overgrown undercut as I breathe the words against his ear with reverence, as if they are purest declarations of love and not begging born from heated sexual passion. ‘Inside me. Come deep inside me, love. Give me everything.’

It isn’t even two thrusts before he goes still against me with something that sounds like a mixture between a sob and my name. The feeling of his hot release spilling inside me makes my eyes almost roll back in my head. My own body’s pleasure seems forgotten for a while; once more, my release with the help of Levi’s hand is almost like a barely-necessary formality – I’m only half aware of my thighs spreading wider, my body tensing up, and the droplets of my own come painting my abdomen as I become liquid in Levi’s hands. The pleasure is so intense it almost aches, but it can’t compare to the sight of my lover in front of me as I come down from my high and back to my senses; his cheeks are dusted the most kissable shade of pink and his forehead is slightly damp as I brush his hair away from his eyes.

His eyes. They say that those are the windows to the soul, don’t they? And he’s no different, even if his are from one-way glass. I see everything; the haze of work that was clouding his eyes for these past weeks is gone, leaving him completely bare and open. I see the uncertainty, the persistent guilt, the wish to go back to how things were but not wanting to voice it out of fear of sounding awkward. The need to apologise, hindered by the fear of rejection and blame. As if I could ever be angry with him; as if there was anything to apologise for in the first place. And all those things that cannot even be put in words; I see everything, and I understand it all.

‘I know, love, I know.’ I caress his face, wanting to calm his inner conflict. ‘Everything is okay now. It’s all fine.’

For my efforts, I’m gifted with that small, shy smile of his that makes flowers grow. My Levi is back. Everything will be all right once more.

 

We spend the last week before the presentation practising and preparing – Levi still works on his articles now and again, but it’s nowhere near close to the madness that was happening earlier. These days we’re practically inseparable, going on walks almost every day, visiting our favourite bakery and feeding the pigeons in the park. We take long baths together, playing with bubbles like kids until the water becomes cold. The evenings find us cuddling on the couch, either reading books or ‘watching’ movies. It’s utter bliss.

On Thursday – with the presentation being on Monday – Levi suddenly jumps up in bed in the morning, alarmed that we’ve apparently missed something important. His answer to my sleepy confused question wakes me up immediately and almost makes my eyes pop out of my head.

‘You- what?! Are you _serious?_ You want to buy me a _suit?!_ ’

Initially, I obviously think he’s joking. But the seriousness on his face and demand to ‘get a move on’ right _now_ makes me realise that he is, in fact, serious, and no amount of trying to reason with him that a tie, a shirt, and a collar absolutely do _not_ go together seems to work.

Before I know it, I find myself in front of a large and uncomfortably fancy and classy-looking store. I shrink a little and eye the dark crimson carpet, stone walls and numerous suited-up models around the shop warily. It almost feels like a crime for me to simply _be_ here. This whole situation is bizarre. It’s no surprise that when a clerk approaches us and Levi states that he’d like to ‘find a suit for his assistant here’, the young man’s eyes almost bounce off of his glasses.

‘Ah, but sir, um-’

‘Yes I know.’ Levi’s reply is almost a bark. ‘You’d think I’d notice that a man I’m leading on a leash is wearing a collar, no?’

With my head bowed, I can only watch the lanky man shift uncomfortably on his feet from the corner of my eye. ‘S-sorry, sir, it’s just th-’

‘I’m paying, aren’t I? Treat him as you would any other customer. Or we’ll just go somewhere else.’

That of course makes him rush to show us something suitable – apparently. I let myself be turned this way and that to check for size, still feeling quite dazed with confusion. Soon, I find myself in one of the fitting rooms with a blood-red curtain and a massive full-length mirror. The person that stares back at me wears an impeccable grey suit with a white shirt, a dark red tie, and matching brown leather shoes. I stare, perplexed; the collar is the only proof that this man is me. The thought makes me tremble – how is it possible that just a few months back I was barely allowed to wear the centuries-old torn rags and now I’m here, looking like someone… important?

‘You done there, Eren? How’s it look?’

I jump at Levi’s voice from behind the curtain. ‘Y-y-yeah, ‘m done, y… you can come in.’

He slides in, pulling the curtain back after himself. ‘How do you like it?’ He reaches out to me, patting me down gently, feeling the texture of the different materials underneath his fingertips. ‘You must look absolutely dashing…’

‘I- I… Yeah, I- I like it, it’s… it’s nice.’ I realise just a little bit too late that my voice sounds almost teary – by then, Levi has already noticed.

‘Hey, hey. Are you alright? What is it, love?’

His hand on my cheek, his gentle concerned voice, and the sweet endearment bring me closer to tears and I couldn’t possibly hate myself more. Why must I cry all the time? God, I’m such a fucking failure, such an embarrassment. I don’t even know what my problem is. ‘I’m fine, it’s just… I think I’m a little… o-overwhelmed. Just- to think that I’m really here, like… like this.’ I sniff, and immediately cringe at myself. ‘Ah, God- I’m crying again, fuck… How do you stand me?’ My attempt to laugh it off is pitiful. ‘I’m sorry for being so pathetic.’

Levi being Levi, he offers nothing but comfort. He holds my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as he leans up and plants a soft peck on the tip of my nose. ‘Don’t ever do that. I told you before, didn’t I? Don’t ever apologise for crying. If you need to cry – do it. You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s an honourable, honest trait; not pathetic. Never let anyone change that about you.’ He sighs. ‘But I understand. Will you let me buy it for you though? I’d really like you to look your very best.’

God, he _asks._ He fucking _asks._ ‘But… it’s so expensive and- and you’ll spend so much time on me again.’ I grit my teeth. I hate it that I can only take and take from him. I cringe at the thought of him working so hard on the articles these weeks, only for a large portion of the salary to go on these stupid clothes.

‘Oi.’ He slaps my upper arm lightly. ‘Don’t talk like that. If we buy you a good one now, it’ll last you for a long, long while. So just leave it to me and don’t worry, okay? You gorgeous young man, you. All the women will be fawning over you, I’m sure…’

I smirk at his words, leaning in to speak against his lips with our noses touching. ‘Don’t let them have me though.’

He smiles broadly. Confidently. ‘Of course not. Never. You’re mine.’

I grin back in response, the sadness gone without a trace. ‘I’m one lucky man.’

 

Sunday night approaches a bit sooner than either of us is ready for, it seems. After deciding to go to bed early and get a good night’s sleep before the big day tomorrow, it turns out that sleep just isn’t going to happen – our mutual stress is tangible in the air, chasing away any hopes of passing out.

‘Do you… wanna do it?’ I speak into the darkness of the room, knowing very well that Levi is wide awake beside me even if he’s completely still. ‘Maybe we could, y’know, get our minds off things, I dunno…’

He sighs, long and heavy. ‘Uh… Sorry, I, um. I don’t think I can, to be honest with you. I think I’m way too stressed for that.’ His nervous laughter only serves to further prove his point.

‘Yeah, I get you… I think I’m the same, actually.’ I sigh as well, staring at the ceiling. My stomach twists uncomfortably, making it difficult to lay still but for another long while, it’s all we do. That is, until an utterly random conversation idea pops into my head. ‘Hey, Levi? Remember when you once told me that you have your own scientific view of what God is? And remember when you told me that you’d tell me about it some day?’

The silence is so dense it’s almost comical; I can’t see Levi’s face but I can only imagine his overwhelming confusion. It takes him a moment to speak. ‘Where-’ He cuts off, swallows, and tries again. ‘Where did that even come from?’

I give a short huff. ‘I don’t even know, I just remembered that now. And, well, I’m still curious. I wonder how you see these things.’

‘Uh, alright…’ He folds his arm across his chest. ‘Well… but first of all let me just say that this is weird and mad and just- yeah, it’s just a thought, really.’ In its own way it’s quite adorable how self-conscious he can become over something so small. ‘Okay, so. Well, it starts off with the quantum theory. We touched on that a bit, remember? It’s based on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle – that science can only guess what state a particle will fall in, but cannot predict what it will be. Maybe one day someone will find a way to do that, and turn the entire scientific field upside down, but for now – you can imagine it, right? When science gives up on trying to explain something, it _has to_ raise an interest. So I was entertaining the idea that spirituality, that the ‘unseen force’ that many people believe connects all living things, is the force that dictates what happens to each of those particles – it’s _God_ , if you will. I just… I just don’t believe that something so very fundamental in nature could be governed purely by chance. Just doesn’t add up for me. So, if this deity, this God, has the power over every subatomic particle in the universe, then it really is all-powerful. But then if we take the viewpoint that some religions take, that we as humans are made in the image of God, then maybe it means that we’ve got that small bit of power ourselves? That we’ve got the power to, for the most part, control what happens on the most basic level in our brains; how signals are passed between synapses and all that, ultimately leading to a degree of control over our thoughts, our behaviour, and just essentially who we are. It would also fit in with the view that God is ever-present, since everything is made up of subatomic particles. And…’ He pauses his long monologue for a breath. ‘Yeah, I guess that’s it in a nutshell. Told you, nothing exciting, just a bit weird.’

My brain feels like it’s about to boil off with the amount of ideas that have just been placed in it. It takes me a moment to mull over everything and sort it all out in my head but when I do, I can only sit up and silently stare at my lover with uninhibited… adoration. Fluttering affection makes my chest grow twice its size as I watch this small, inconspicuous man with so much love for and never-ending desire to understand the world; with so much insight into things that really matter – I’m almost convinced that he can see the world much more clearly than I and most people do, despite his lack of sight. His idea might be the craziest concept, or the most accurate guess – it doesn’t matter; what matters is his continuous search for answers. A sudden thought pushes itself to the very front of my mind and within seconds, it’s all I can think about. It’s a new thought that gives me goose bumps; but at the same time, it’s only logical. And at that moment, it’s something that I have to tell him. For whatever reason, I _must_ tell him.

Leaning over him and supporting myself with one arm, I caress his face; his beautiful skin, pale as usual, even in the darkness. ‘Levi… Levi, I have to tell you something.’

I can see him frown. ‘Uh-oh… That, um. That doesn’t sound good.’

‘No! It’s nothing bad, it’s just… I need you to know something. I… I want you to know that- that if all of the things that happened to me… If they were to happen again, if I were to be taken away and tortured again by Keith, but if I knew that you’d be waiting for me at the end of it all, I’d-’

‘Eren…’

I don’t let his worried, confused voice distract me. ‘No, I have to tell you this. I want you to know that… That I’d go through all of that again, if that’s what it would take to be with you. All those- every single rape and bruise…’ My hand subconsciously clenches in his pillow. ‘I’d take them all, I’d- I’d endure anything for you.’

In all honesty, I’m quite shocked that I managed to force those words past my lips; but then again, there are nothing but the truth – sometimes I scare myself with how much I love him. I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do for him, if he asked me.

His hands cradle my face too, so gently that it almost aches. ‘God, Eren, you… You scare me when you talk like that. But then again, if we’re having an honest hour here, then… I- I feel the same.’ My breath hitches. ‘Obviously I’d like to see again. Someone once said that misery is suffering without seeing the point of it. I was miserable, before I met you. But then… Then I slowly began to realise just _why_ I had to lose my sight; I began to appreciate it, even – without the accident I never would have met you. You know, it’s a cruel world; I’ve found you, but I can’t even see you. It’s cruel. But I’ll take it, you know? If that’s what it takes. If I can’t have both you and my eyes, then fine, so be it. I don’t have any regrets.’

My mouth is on his before he even has a chance to take a breath after that small speech. I kiss him with the same urgency and desperation as he made love to me those few days back – as if he were to disappear any minute. I just can’t get enough of him; how is it possible that I could ever get so lucky to kiss this man whenever I want? Indeed; all those pains were worth it.

Unfortunately, at some stage we really do need to part for breath. We pant against each other’s lips, our lungs burning. I can’t help a wide grin spreading on my lips, suddenly feeling as if I can take on the world. ‘We’re going to kick ass tomorrow. We’ll be so awesome they’ll want us back again and again, you’ll see.’

This may or may not be a very far-fetched wish, but it gets Levi to smile bright too, and that’s all that matters.

 

Even though the presentation starts at 10am, by 6am we’re already in the shower. I stand under the stream of water, utterly traumatised by the brutal way the merciless alarm clock has ripped me from my sleep at such an ungodly hour – these days I’m used to waking up by myself, or by Levi’s gentle kiss or caress. The clock, in comparison, is demonic.

We opt for a light breakfast consisting of just cereal with fruit; we’re both tense and decide there’s absolutely no need to potentially upset our stomachs further. Just like the last time we were getting ready for the university, Levi looks absolutely breath-taking in that black suit, white shirt, and navy tie of his, making me bite my lip to keep my impure thoughts from spilling out my mouth. Later. When we come back.

The collar comes last. When I look at myself in the mirror, fully ready, I want to laugh once more. _Slave in a suit walks into a lecture theatre_ – that’s like the set up for a bad, bad joke. None of this feels particularly real, even as we walk out the door with me on Levi’s leash.

We don’t talk too much on our way to the university; just an occasional encouragement here and there. We’ve practised enough, we know what we’re doing, our slideshow is approved, and we’re going to get there on time. Everything is going to be just fine. The sun is shining and it’s warm outside, with just a few white fluffy clouds near the horizon. It’s a good day, and it’s a good step forward for both of us – especially for Levi.

We get to the massive lecture room almost an hour early. Expectedly, there is no one in there, for which I’m infinitely grateful. Still, this doesn’t stop me from looking warily around the massive space as if something might jump out at me from behind a corner. Levi, on the other hand, is clearly in his element. I wonder if he even notices how his demeanour changes; his movements are brisk and confident – almost like second nature or autopilot – as he unzips his case and takes out his laptop. From the other plastic bag which he asked me to carry, he fishes out the large stack of thin stapled handouts for the participants which summarise the key points from the slides. He plugs in his laptop to some cables and presses the buttons on the panel on the dark wooden stand – the lectern, as he once told me – with such ease and so effortlessly; as if he never stopped teaching and was in this very lecture room just last Friday. It’s gorgeous to watch him working, and so focused; I know that even though he’s stressed, he feels at home. It’s plainly evident on his face.

‘Eren, can you please split those handouts in half and put them on the first row of both left and right sides? They’ll be able to collect them on their way to their seats.’ He gestures with his hand as if he can see the seats so clearly in his mind.

‘Of course, of course, I’m on it!’ I jump to work immediately, happy to be of any use. I put the stacks of papers just as he asked me, making sure they’re flawlessly aligned and no single page sticks out, and that they’re perfectly parallel to the edge of the desk. Apparently Levi also got permission from Pixis to remove my leash for the time of the presentation, but the collar must be on at all times, without any question. Still, I appreciate the lack of leash, allowing me to buzz around the man without anything hindering me.

‘Is the screen fully down?’

‘Yup!’

‘Here, I think the projector is off. Can you press that round large gray button on it with that stick? Will you reach it?’

‘I will, no problem!’ Reaching the button on the projector in the ceiling using a wooden metre stick is actually challenging, but I manage to get it quickly and we both hear the short ‘blip’.

‘Is the first slide up on the screen now?’

‘Yep, it’s coming up right now!’

‘Do you have the laser pointer? Check if it’s working?’

‘It’s working perfectly; the red dot is nice and bright!’ I would be lying if I said that I’m not getting just a little bit excited about this whole thing. It feels fantastic to be useful, to be his _assistant_ in something so important to him.

‘Can you check if the pointer changes slides correctly too?’

‘Yeah, everything is working fine, it’s all good. It goes back and forwards, all as it should!’

The excitement that starts to thrum in my bones is quickly dampened once people start to arrive. Everything is set up and ready, so at the moment neither of us have nothing to do; I end up standing beside Levi who’s tapping idly at his laptop. Apparently, Levi’s sense is as sharp as ever and he easily picks up at my nervousness and whispers quiet words of support to me. While I appreciate his efforts endlessly, they simply can’t put my mind at ease as much as I wish they could. Soon enough, the room fills with lively chatter; voices of both older and younger people – this in itself wouldn’t be as terrifying since being around larger groups of people doesn’t send me into paralysis and panic as much anymore. What’s uncomfortable is the fact that, technically, I shouldn’t really be here, and I sure as hell don’t fit in there. The collar on my neck feels white-hot, glowing neon-bright for everyone to see. I don’t dare lift my head, too afraid of what I might potentially see; disgust, distaste, disorientation – what is a slave doing in a university? As the room continues to fill, including the far back rows, I start to wonder whether the quiet – but not quiet _enough_ – snippets of whispers of ‘slave’ and ‘collar’ and ‘illegal’ are actually spoken, or whether they’re just in my head.

Levi’s loud, clear voice almost makes me jump out of my skin. ‘Okay, good morning everyone. It’s just five past ten right now, so I think we can make a start.’ The conversations die down quickly until the room is silent, save for the barely-audible hum of the projector overhead. Somehow, the silence among the audience is even more scary. I still keep my head down; it’s both out of fear of looking at those people, but my aim is also to appear as docile, obedient, submissive, and non-threatening as possible. I put my arm behind my back to hopefully enhance the effect. ‘My name is Levi Ackerman; I’m an ex-professor of physics in this university, perhaps there are some among you that may know me. I don’t lecture currently, but the department and myself have come to an agreement for me to lead this presentation, to which you’re all very welcome. Some of you, perhaps those in the front rows, may have noticed that I’m blind – this is why I have my assistant, Eren Jäger here with me, who’s highly knowledgeable and has significantly contributed to the smooth preparation of this presentation. His presence is fully authorised with a written permission by the department – so should you have any issues or questions about this, you can verify this or direct any queries to professor Pixis. Now, to start off, I hope you’ve all taken a handout of-’

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. A heavy, disgusting weight of foreboding rises up to my throat before it actually happens. And when it does, it’s almost like in slow motion, dragging on forever, and I’m only a helpless spectator forced to watch the nightmare unfold with a kind of a resigned grief that feels like iron shackles around my wrists; so heavy that I must fight against collapsing. I don’t even know when – and why – I lifted my head. Not that it matters. Is it all over?

The bespectacled, dark-haired man in one of the back rows rises from his seat with his fist slamming into the desk. His eyes are wide and round, just as his glasses. It’s a face I know all too well – a face I might have been once relieved to see. Not anymore, though. Not almost two years late. Not here. With the last shred of hope I wish for it to be just a mistake; it’s not him. But wishful thinking never gets anyone anywhere – the man bellows my name. The lecture room remains eerily silent. I tremble.

‘Dad…’

If I weren’t standing so close to him, I would have missed Levi’s quiet gasp. I don’t turn around to face him, though. I can’t; I’m too scared to see his expression. Besides, my vision is fixated on Dr Grisha Jäger in that brown suit of his, on his now red face and an accusatory finger pointed towards Levi. ‘That man is a criminal! Someone call the security right now! Someone call the police! That boy he turned into his slave is my son!!’

It takes just about two beats of my tonne-weighing heart before the commotion erupts. It’s hell itself. Frozen with terror, I watch people jump out of their seats, some grabbing their phones, some discussing the situation animatedly – _‘J_ _äger, J_ _äger; that tells me something? Wasn’t that on the news months ago? A university professor tangled up in illegal slavery? Outrageous! Kidnapping a doctor’s son? The audacity!_ ’ – some running out the door, shouting for security, and a few making their way towards us. And still, I can’t move. This cannot be happening.

I regain some of my senses when Levi is pulled away from my side by two middle-aged men, each grabbing a hold of my lover’s shoulder. ‘Oi, oi, just don’t resist little professor; you’re in deep trouble as it is already.’

I’m quite certain I’m foaming at the mouth, ready to pounce on the beasts that manhandle the man who isn’t even giving the impression of wanting to resist. He lets himself be dragged a few steps away from me, looking just as shocked as I feel. His wide, panicked eyes contrasting with his otherwise purposefully stoic expression stab my heart and make my blood run cold.

‘Don’t you fucking-’

‘Eren!’ I’m stopped by my father’s arms that grab me by the shoulder and spin me around, forcing me to face him. This isn’t a family reunion. This man is a traitor and the hatred I feel towards him in this moment can only be compared to the one I feel towards Keith Shadis. ‘My God, Eren, it’s really you!’

I stare at him with utter disgust. How dare he! ‘Don’t you fucking dare touch me!’ I push him back and he staggers, taken aback. The hurt is clear on his face. Good.

‘Eren, it’s me. It’s Grisha, your dad-’

‘Of course you are. I know very well who you fucking are; a goddamn fucking traitor, that’s who!’ I’m seething with hatred, and I can barely control my own words or my body. It won’t be much longer before this argument becomes physical. ‘You’ve ruined my life once, and now you’re trying to do it again?! I won’t fucking let you, not this ti-’

‘What is going on here? Where’s the suspected criminal?’ My words are cut off by the low voice of one of the four black-dressed and burly security guards that push through the onlookers towards us. ‘Are you Levi Ackerman?’

Levi’s confirmatory reply is barely audible in the suddenly busy room, but apparently it’s enough for the men to grab a hold of him from the hands of the other two. They wrench his hands behind his back – he looks so small and defenceless. It makes me want to slit everyone’s throats here.

‘Can everyone not involved please leave. There is no talk today. Levi Ackerman, you’re under suspicion of owning an illegal slave; the police are on their way and will be here any minute.’ It’s one of the other guards that growls this time.

‘ _Suspicion_?’ My father roars from behind me. ‘It’s not a suspicion, he’s been caught red-handed! You’ll rot in prison for touching my son, you fucking filth!’

I’m holding onto remnants of sanity by the threads, but everything is falling out of my grasp; my control, the situation, and Levi. ‘You got it wrong! You’ve all got it wrong, you have no idea about anything! This man is the reason why I’m not cut up in pieces and rotting in a landfill after my father abandoned me! Fucking let him go, he hasn’t done anything wrong!’

Grisha pulls me back just as I try to make a move towards the guards and Levi. ‘Eren- he set you against me, didn’t he? He made you believe he saved you, he manipulated you… Son, I know. I understand. But it’s fine, now. This man won’t hurt you again. I know you’re hurt and confused and scared right now, but you’re safe now; you don’t have to worry.’

‘You don’t know shit! He-’

‘Eren, darling boy, just keep breathing.’ A random woman – possibly a nurse? A mature student? – joins my father in trying to pacify me. ‘You’re not alone; many people have gone through what you’re battling with. You’re so used to the abuse you’ve been subjected to that you’re scared of anything else. But you can go home with your dad now, and you can get help, and for once free yourself from that abusive man.’

For a moment I just stare at her in shock. She… she actually seems to believe the shit she’s spewing out of her mouth. I’m just about to curse her to hell and back when two uniformed and armed police men and one woman stride into the room. The realisation of the gravity of the situation suddenly crushes me. The woman is the one who speaks in an authoritarian tone. ‘We’ve been informed of an uncovered illegal slavery incident. Dr Grisha Jäger?’

‘Yes, ma’am; that criminal had the audacity to waltz in here with my son as his slave. You must arrest him! Such scum shouldn’t be allowed on the streets.’

‘And you’re Dr Jäger’s son, correct?’

The woman turns to me. She doesn’t seem like a particularly kind or sympathetic person, but I’ll grasp at any chance I can get. ‘Yes, ma’am, but- Please- Please, just wait with the arrest, alright? Please, God- you’ve got it all wrong; he hasn’t hurt me, God, I swear, he really hasn’t done anything wrong-!’

She sighs and takes out a notepad. ‘Mr Jäger, this is a clear case of an illegal ownership and the suspect must be arrested without question. I understand that you’re confused and in shock, but-’

‘Can you all stop telling me I’m confused?! _You_ are! You have no idea what-’

A thud against the floor makes me snap my head back, and the sight of Levi pushed to the ground as the two policemen hold him down and handcuff him tears me apart. Uncontrollable panic sets in and tears cascade down my face. I shriek. ‘Fuck you! Stop pushing him around! Can’t you see?! He’s blind! He’s not even resisting!’

I’m forcibly turned around again, this time by the uniformed woman. ‘I must ask you to calm down, Mr Jäger.’

‘But-! W-what’s going to h-happen to him?’ I sob helplessly.

‘He’ll be put under trial.’ Her words are like my own death sentence. ‘Now, we’re from the Slavery and Ownership Regulation and Order police division, and I’d like to get some contact details. We’ll be in touch shortly, perhaps tomorrow, in relation to questioning.’

Grisha – thinking of him as my _dad_ almost feels like heresy – is quick to give the woman some details which she jots down quickly before closing the pad and stuffing it in her pocket. I shake and stand there powerlessly as Levi is pulled to his feet. I can’t do anything as he’s dragged out of the room by force – the last I see of him are his lips, silently mouthing my name.

And just like that, they’re gone. The security guards. The police. The light of my life. My entire world comes crashing down around me and I fall to my knees as I tear at my hair and wail until my throat becomes torn.


	20. The Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CU_7KvZW-34 (Mud Flow - The Sense of Me)

Don’t think. Empty your head. Don’t think. Don’t think.

_I’ve lost him. I’ve lost him, and it’s all my fault. He’s suffering because of me._

Don’t think.

Switching off my mind is more difficult than I could have ever imagined, especially since the cause of my problems is sitting right beside me. We don’t talk during the journey, and the silence is stifling in the tiny car. With the corner of my eye I see his shoulders rise as he sighs, the beginning of a conversation on the tip of his tongue more than once, but in the end, he doesn’t bother. I’m glad for that. In the past there might have been a time when I’d be glad to see him, when I’d be relieved to hear his voice. When I’d seek out his fatherly presence and support. But that time is long gone, and I wish he were too. Leaning my head against the window, I don’t mind when my skull hits against the surface; it hurts, and that’s what I want – to occupy my mind with something, anything, that will cloud the sound and the image of Levi being taken away from me. Dragged away from that lecture room by the police, cuffed and manhandled. He didn’t even resist; he knew that he’d only make it worse for himself. So I struggled for us both – not as if that did us any good. He still disappeared, and I still ended up in my father’s car. No matter how much I shouted, no matter how much I cried and begged, they tore us apart.

Maybe I should have fought harder. Would that change anything? I doubt it. Would I even have any more strength to fight? Even now I’m sitting here, drained and tired. There’s nothing left in me, no tears; only the overwhelming emptiness and pain. Even breathing became a conscious effort, as if my body lost its will to survive on its own. Every part of me wants to give up, and it seems that this is what is slowly happening.

That’s why I let myself be led by Grisha to that small old car of his, let him take me to his small flat, some 30km away from Trost. That’s what he told me; not as if I care. He could be taking me away to kill me for all I care; I’ve got nothing left to lose.

He tried to talk to me initially; starting up with some bullshit small talk, pathetically trying to joke about his flat being so tiny that he’s only got one bedroom, so that I shouldn’t expect much, but that he’ll definitely take the couch so that I can sleep in the bed in. As if I care. To my relief, he stopped talking once he realised I’m not going to respond or even look at him; we’ve been driving in silence since then.

I’m not surprised in the slightest that he’s living in rough conditions. Actually, I’m somewhat shocked he’s not living in a goddamn wooden shed, like he forced us to live in back in Shiganshina. Granted, it was a tiny village with old houses, but we definitely stood out as the poorest family in the area, despite the fact that Dr fucking Jäger was a well-known and well-respected individual. I can’t help but wince in disgust at the thought. He’s always been so overzealous; spending almost all of his money on his patients, paying for their treatments and medicines when they couldn’t afford it themselves. No wonder he was – and still is – respected; everyone will fall for a story of a caring and self-sacrificing doctor. But no one saw the three of us behind him; his family who had no running water and whose roof leaked under heavy rain. This man should never have a family. It’s his fault mom died; if we lived in better conditions, she wouldn’t have gotten sick. But he didn’t care; he only cared about those strangers. Or did he really? Did he just use them to gain respect from others in his field? Does he just care about his status and reputation? He’s supposed to be my father, but there are so many things that I just don’t know about him. The truth is, I don’t want to know. What good excuse could he possibly give me for leaving us behind? Did a patient require immediate attention, on the other side of the fucking globe? I don’t want to hear his excuses; all I want is for him to disappear from my life, once and for all this time. While I’m aware that his return frees me from the slave collar, I don’t think this is what I really want.

It’s just so utterly cruel; either Levi, or my freedom. And why has this choice been made _for_ me? I couldn’t even decide on my own fate. But if I could, what would I choose? It’s a laughable question, really. What I told Levi just yesterday is true; I’d endure anything for him. I’d live my entire life on a leash for him. _God_ , I’m willing to give up anything; why won’t life just take it? Why is there no mercy?

It’s only when my hand starts to ache do I realise that I’ve been clenching my fist. I see nail marks in my palm. _I can’t give up_. I can’t just leave him. He wouldn’t leave me; he’d fight for me, he always did. My stomach twists with nausea as I recall the utter overwhelming fear and abandonment I felt back in that hospital storage room when I thought he left me. The bone-deep panic and helplessness and betrayal. How does he feel now? Does he feel something similar? Does he feel betrayed? Does he think I’ll leave him behind and let him go to jail? Does he think I don’t care about him anymore, now that I have my freedom back? I feel sick. I can only hope that he knows I couldn’t prevent him from being taken away, and that I’ll do everything in my power to get him back. I have no plan whatsoever, there isn’t a single coherent thought in my broken mind at the moment, but one thing is certain – I won’t rest until Levi is safe, and I don’t care what it will cost me.

‘Okay, we’re here.’ His voice drags me out of my troubled thoughts, and I notice that we did indeed stop moving. Looking around, I can’t help but cringe. The neighbourhood is large, crowded with tall grey apartment buildings that look downright haunted – nothing like the pleasant homely complex that Levi lives in. Even the single sad-looking tree looks grey among all of that cold concrete. Everything is devoid of colour, and the cloudy sky makes me shiver even more. ‘Hey… Come on, let’s go up inside.’ He finally gets out of the car, slamming the door and making the whole thing rattle. For a moment I entertain the thought of staying inside and refusing to leave unless dragged out by force, but in the end decide against making a scene, deciding it really wouldn’t amount up to anything; I’ll have to leave this car sooner or later.

The hallway is dark and cold, just as I could have expected. There are streak marks on the walls here and there; maybe some tenants’ pipes have burst during the winter. Our footsteps echo in the hall, giving me chills. As we pass the staircase and go to stand near the lift, the letterboxes catch my eye; some of them are bursting with envelopes and leaflets, making me wonder whether they’ve been sent to someone who’s dead and currently rotting away in one of the flats, with their next-door neighbour being none the wiser.

‘I live on the twelfth floor, so we best take the lift.’

I don’t bother with giving him a reply and he sighs in response at my silence. What did he expect, really? His audacity to be disappointed at my behaviour infuriates me; did he expect I’d dive into his arms and rejoice the return of my traitor of a father? The lift doors finally creak open and I almost jump back as a hooded man steps out. Hands in his pockets, cigarette in his mouth, stench of vomit around him, dirt on his clothes, and slouched over, he flashes us with his hostile blood-shot eyes as he passes us silently. There is a primal need scratching at the back of my mind to run, to hide; something in that man’s appearance reminding me of one of the countless men that I was forced to serve at that brothel. Swallowing the fearful memory down, I follow Grisha into the lift, praying that the century-old contraption won’t get stuck.

Thankfully, the ride is quick enough and soon I can step away and keep my distance from the man again. When he lets me into his flat, I do have to admit that I’m somewhat surprised. What I expected was a literal landfill – from what I remember, the house was a mess of dirty clothes and empty vodka bottles in the short period between mom’s death and Grisha’s disappearance. What I see in front of me is somewhat different; granted, everything is ancient – the stove, the ceiling light in the kitchen which really is just a naked lightbulb, the scarce furniture. Even the floor is a wrinkled linoleum. And yet, it’s orderly enough. Then again; maybe this self-proclaimed martyr doesn’t buy enough things for himself to be able to cause a major mess. Still; there might be no mess, but it doesn’t mean that the look of the place doesn’t make my skin crawl. It’s dark. It’s grey. It’s cold, and it has nothing to do with the temperature.

‘Have a seat.’ He points to the kitchen table. I feel sick. All I can see is Levi’s small bright kitchen, with his small white teacup on the wooden table with hot cherry tea steaming from it, waiting for him. The small Christmas plant we decorated with paper cut-outs. ‘I’ll make us some lunch. Meanwhile, do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?’

‘I’m not hungry.’ My voice is dead and hollow to the point that the sound of it surprises even me.

‘It will only be a few minutes, I have some tomato soup that I’ll just heat u-’

‘Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m not hungry!’ It’s becoming more difficult by the second to not lash out at him.

He gives me yet another one of his long condescending sighs as he fixes the glasses on his nose. ‘Eren. I know you’re still in shock and shaken. But trust me, you’ll feel better once you’ll have some warm food-’

That’s enough. ‘Why?! Why the fuck should I listen to anything that you spew out of your mouth?! Because what, you think you’re my father? You think you can disappear like that, come back, and then still call yourself that?!’

‘Calm down, Ere-’

‘Don’t tell me to _fucking_ calm down! You better have a really good goddamn excuse for me right now as to why you just fucking disappeared like this!’

‘I’ll tell you, once you fucking stop _screaming_ and let me talk!’

Admittedly, his shout surprises and startles me, just a little bit. Quickly regaining my footing, however, I can’t help but smirk with something akin to satisfaction that I managed to get him to lose his temper; to tear off that disgustingly artificial ‘perfect father’ mask. ‘Alright then, hit me with your best shot. I’m dying to find out about your great explanation.’

My voice is nothing but a bitter sneer. With folded arms, I watch him lean back against the stove, his shoulders hunched. He fixes his glasses again. ‘Back then… I got a letter from my first wife.’ Well, this is off to a simply wonderful start. ‘She wrote that her five-year old has gotten terribly sick, and that she simply has no money for the treatment. She had terrible financial troubles.’ He pauses for a second, making me squint. Surely he’s just getting started with his story? ‘I… I had to go, Eren. She begged me for a lend of money and a visit just for a few days to see her son. The desperation in her letter was just unbearable, I _had_ to go, I couldn’t just leave her alone like this. Your aunt was meant to come take care of yous two, anyway. I don’t know why she-’

I must have heard it wrong. ‘Wait, hold on. You mean… _That’s_ your story? Your big excuse? You left your children shortly after your wife died so that you could babysit the woman you’ve divorced?’ I’m breathless with shock and disgust. ‘Just… What kind of psycho are you? Few days my ass! You were gone for _weeks,_ you liar! Months!’

‘I had to!’ It’s not possible that I’m actually hearing these things. He’s… he’s not serious, obviously. ‘I had to stay! She was in bits, you understand? She was almost due with her second child, and her second husband died just weeks earlier, leaving her with nothing! She said she was going to kill herself if I left! What could have I done?! I had to stay, Eren! I was certain you were safe with your aunt!’

Feeling dizzy, I take a step back. ‘You… You never even bothered to call, or to write… You- You just assumed?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you even know what I went through?! Do you have any idea of what was done to me?! And what about Mikasa?! I have no fucking idea where she is, she could be _dead_ for all I know! All because of you, because you didn’t have a pair to fucking tell that woman that, oh, guess what, you have a family of your own now! And that they need you, that _your_ children need you! That your wife died, and you just fucking _can’t_ leave them alone! But no, you cared more about someone else’s kid than your own! You just goddamn abandoned us!’

His spectacles almost cloud over with the heat of his anger. How dare he be the one to shout? ‘I did _not!_ I had no reason to doubt your aunt! I spoke to her in person, goddammit! And I came back, and looked for you, but no one knew where you were! But I came back! Not even three months later, I came ba-’

‘ _Three_ months later!’ My laughter is hysterical. I’m shaking with fury. ‘Do you want to know what I did three months later? I dangled chained to a ceiling, starved and beaten and naked!’ I double over in piercing hollow laughter at his morbid expression. It takes me a few moments to breathe in enough air to speak more calmly once again. ‘The worst things you can think of. And the things you can’t even imagine, all of it, and more. Want me to tell you about it? Want me to tell you what _you_ did to me? Oh, it was so nice and tame at first. Just your usual starvation, dehydration, sleep deprivation, the regular beatings, night and day. Humiliation in every way possible. But then they got creative, you know? Making me eat my own shit and vomit, bathing me in my piss, making me hurt other slaves. Striking my pressure points for hours on end until I passed out from pain. That was very neat, you know? Not a single drop of blood, and yet the agony is indescribable. All the while watching children hang themselves or biting through their own veins to kill themselves and make the pain stop. Having to see my friend chopped into pieces and thrown away with garbage.’

It’s almost eerie, how completely silent Grisha became. I start to wonder if he’s even breathing, as he stares wide-eyed into a spot on the floor. Guilt? How potentially interesting. Taking a slow, calculated step towards him, I quieten my voice, almost to a whisper. As if I’m letting him in on some exciting secret.

‘But _daddy_ , do you want to know why I was really there?’ There’s a sadistic beast inside me that rejoices at the mere possibility that maybe, just maybe, there is some humanity left in him and that I’m making him suffer. The beast grins, hoping it can strike as many chords as possible. This is its payback; it won’t fix anything, it won’t bring anyone back, but the satisfaction will surely be worth it. ‘I was there so that perverted men could get their rocks off to me, and in me. Every. Single. Night. Yeah, see, I was a whore; the orphanage sold me to a brothel. Not the nicest thing of them, would you say? See, I want you to try and imagine getting pushed down by a large, filthy man. Imagine being tied down, so that you don’t have a way of protecting or hiding yourself whatsoever, you can’t even close your legs, so you’re just at the mercy of those sadists. Sounds great, hm?’

‘Son, please.’ He sounds utterly broken. Wonderful.

‘Imagine then he shoves his fingers in your ass, and then his dick. Not once asking or giving a damn whether it hurts or not. He laughs at you, at your humiliation. And when he’s done with you, you just lay there, covered in his swear and spit and come, and you count yourself lucky when you’re not bleeding everywhere. Awesome, right? And then-’

‘God, Eren, _stop_!’

I do, but I can’t help but smirk at his reaction. ‘Pathetic. You can’t even listen to it, can you. Even though it’s all your fault.’

A heavy silence falls in the small room for a short while. ‘What do you want then?! What do you want me to do?!’

‘I want you to leave me the fuck alone. To leave the one man that made me stop praying for death every night, in peace. But you already fucked that, didn’t you.’

‘You’re not talking about that pseudo scientist, are you?’ I barely stop myself from slapping him for his words and the disgust on his face. ‘He had you on a goddamn leash and a collar, and yet you defend him? And then you expect me to take your arguments seriously?’

Taking another step towards him, I all but snarl at the hypocrite with whom I’m unlucky enough to share a surname. ‘ _You_ put the collar on me. Maybe _you_ killed Mikasa. Only _you_ are responsible for it. Never forget that.’  

Having had enough of talking and hearing Grisha’s voice and seeing his face, I walk out of the kitchen and into his living room – or what I presume is his living room; a tiny space with just a couch, anyway – and slam the door behind me. I give it a few moments and sigh out in relief when he doesn’t follow me; I only hear the scraping of the chair across the floor.

Now that the adrenaline from the conversation starts dissipating, a dull kind of fatigue starts to settle in my bones. All the things I’ve said echo in my mind. The truth is that I genuinely scared myself earlier today, and yet again now. The anger, the white-hot fury… It was uncontrollable, and it clouded my mind completely; now I’m left cold, tired, and hollow. After fighting it for a moment, I decide to give in and curl up on the small, tattered couch, closing my eyes and trying to imagine that I’m back in Levi’s flat, that I’ll wake up to his light clean curtains, to the books on his shelves, to a thick beige blanket around me, and to the smell of curry soup I’ve made for dinner being heated up. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost fool myself into believing that I’m still _home_.

 

 

A female voice muffled by the door gently pulls me out of my dreamless slumber and into consciousness. I crack one eye open to be greeted by mid-darkness in the room. I fell asleep? For how long? Where am I? ‘Mama?’

My own voice echoing in the small room helps me wake up and I frown in hazy confusion. Mom? Of course she’s not here. Why would she be? She’s dead… And yet for just a brief, fleeting, peaceful moment, it felt like her presence close to me. Was it a dream? I can’t recall. I don’t want to recall; don’t want to face reality just yet. But it’s no use – even when I try to squeeze my eyes shut, sleep just won’t take me back.

It’s only when I sit up do I realise that there’s a blanket thrown over me. I tremble with some fierce unnamed emotion; Levi and I always did that for each other when one passed out on the couch, and now _he_ does it for me? It feels like… like blasphemy; staining such precious, pure memories with my father’s face. Or am I angry that he’s trying to play anything else than the devil he is? Is it that I can’t stand the thought of him being capable of acting human sometimes? But why? And why did I think of my times with Levi as ‘memories’, as if they happened so long ago, as if they’ll never return. God, I barely woke up and my head is splitting with tangled thoughts already.

That is, until I hear a knock on the door. ‘Eren, I’m from the police. I have a few questions for you. Would you mind me coming in?’

Gritting my teeth, I suppose it’ll be better to get this over with as soon as possible; and just maybe, I’ll be able to get some useful information out of her, too. ‘Yeah. I mean, no- I mean, come in.’

The old door creaks open and a thin, blonde woman with short hair stands in the doorway for a second before entering and closing the door behind her. ‘Evening, Eren; my name’s Nanaba, I’m from the police- Oh, may I call you Eren? Or would you prefer Mr Jäger?’

My skin crawls at the thought of being called by my father’s surname. ‘N-no, ‘Eren’ is fine. Is it evening already? How long have I slept…’ I murmur to myself, but apparently the woman picks up the trailing words.

‘It’s just past five, but it’s understandable. You went through quite a shock today. Is it okay if I sit down?’ She points to the tattered brown armchair across from the couch. While I’m completely aware she’s treating me like an egg and tiptoeing around as if I’ll fall apart any second, I humour her and nod, bringing up my knees to my chest on the couch as I face her. ‘Thank you. Say, how do you feel, dear?’

There’s a limit to the beating around the bush that I’ll tolerate, though. ‘Please, spare me that sugar-coating. Just… Just ask me what you want, or whatever you came here for.’

Sighing, Ms Nanaba takes out a small leather-cover notebook and a pen. ‘Very well. Then, Eren, please tell me what you remember happening after your father’s disappearance.’

For the second time that day, I reluctantly begin the dark tale of my abandonment and abuse, adding more details about my father’s disappearance and time at the orphanage, and omitting some of the graphic and vile points that I threw at Grisha earlier on. It feels as if I’m talking for ages, and yet the woman doesn’t seem to be taking all that many notes. Soon it becomes clear why, when she starts directing the conversation – or my monologue, really – to my time with Levi. More specifically, to the trauma he allegedly put me through.

‘W… What? He never-! How can you even insinuate that?! He never forced himself on me! He never touched me in a bad way, not once!’ It’s beyond ridiculous that I must convince anyone of something like that, after it was me who practically seduced him and dragged him to bed. Not that I’ll go into detail of that.

‘Eren, dear, he bought you at a _brothel_. I understand if you-’

‘No! No, you don’t! I- I know it seems weird, right? I was, well, surprised, to say the least. I expected him to abuse me, I was terrified of what he’d be capable of doing to me… But it was all because of what they did to me in the brothel! Levi took care of me! And the reason he bought me was because he needed someone to be his eyes, someone to help him clean and cook and get around the city…’

Sighing once more, she puts down her notebook and looks at me intently. ‘Darling, I know you’re still in denial, I understand that it’s a massive shock for you, I really do. I can’t begin to fathom the pain that those people and that man put you through but bringing justice and help for you is what I’m here for; the more you tell me, the better we’ll be able to help you, and the man who hurt you will pay the price, so that he’ll never hurt anyone again. Do you understand?’ The woman’s voice is patient and calm and full of compassion; as if she’s talking to a fragile and traumatised five-year old.

I almost gasp at the realisation – this is what she actually believes. She really believes what she says. She really believes that it was Levi who hurt me the most; not Keith or my father. It takes me a moment before I can find my voice again. ‘You… You are so wrong.’

‘Eren, listen to me.’ She leans forward a bit. ‘You feel alienated and hurt. You’re probably angry that such foul things happened to you, and you have every right to be furious. But you’re not the only one who went through this, you’re not alone in this. I know it seems difficult or even impossible right now to escape those clutches of pain and fear, but now you’re free and you’re safe – you’ll get better. What was done to you in that brothel was awful, and you might even think that that professor really helped you. You might even feel grateful, because he clothed and fed you better. And again, you’re not the first one to be in such a situation. You’re not the first victim to be manipulated by their abuser; and the more intelligent they are, the more dangerous they are, and the more damage they can cause. But we won’t leave you alone in this, do you understand? We’ll help you. Now, I know that it’s still extremely early; it hasn’t even been a day. But what I would like you to do is to start considering the fact that it’s all over now – this man won’t hurt you again.’

I am dumbfounded. ‘No, you…You are _so_ barking up the wrong tree…’

She crosses her legs but without losing her patient demeanour. ‘How so?’

This time it’s me who sighs heavily, wondering how to get through her somewhat thick skull and completely clouded judgement. ‘You know… I think you’re a good person. I mean, it’s just so interesting, because it seems like you really want to help people who have been kidnapped and abused and violated and traumatised, but… Like, I think you’re capable of helping them and comforting them. It’s something they need- something _I’d_ need, if you showed up couple of months back, in autumn.’ There’s a sudden irritation gnawing at the back of my mind – how dare they all claim they want to help people if they’re perfectly fine with what’s being done to slaves? ‘I needed help when I was in the brothel, but now you’re just wasting your time. I don’t need the help that you’re offering.’

For a long while, Ms Nanaba is silent and avoiding my eyes, but she looks like she’s almost… disappointed. What surprises me is the fact that it unnerves me. It feels like my sanity slips for a brief second, as if I don’t know what’s right anymore. Could she be correct-? _No_ , my God, no! How could something like this even brush past my mind – everything Levi and I have been through? It was all fake? All just a manipulation? As if. I’d have to be a complete nutcase to ever doubt him.

I barely resist the urge to slap my own face.

‘I see. Well. I can’t force you to do anything.’ Putting her notebook away into her bag she finally stands up. ‘Still, I’ll leave my card for you, should you change your mind. If not, then perhaps I’ll see you in court during the trial, it depends. Take care of yourself.’ The woman is expectedly dissatisfied with the result of the conversation, but she doesn’t seem to be bitter about it, which is something I have to appreciate, even if she sounds like a lunatic to me. She walks over to the door, but just as her hand grabs the handle, she stops and turns back to me. ‘Oh, and just one final thing; when you’re ready, you can take off that collar, you know. You’re not an orphan or a slave anymore. It’s over.’

My hand instinctively flies to the leather strap around my throat, but before I have a chance to answer, she leaves and closes the door behind herself.

_It’s over._

Is it over? Over my dead body. Clutching the leather tight, I vow to myself to do anything and everything humanly possible to get him back.

 

It isn’t much longer before the muffled conversation from behind the door disappears when the woman – and her colleague – take their leave. Facing Grisha really is the last thing that I want to do, but on the other hand, I can’t hole up in this room forever. Just as I roll off the couch and stand up, something falls out of the pocket of my suit pants and thuds loudly on the carpet. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

The phone. It’s the phone that Levi gave me when he left me alone for the night, and which I’ve completely forgotten about. I stand there staring at the small device, frozen as if fearing that any movement will make that sliver of hope disappear. With irrational care I reach into my pockets, heart hammering. When my left hand closes around a small metal key with a plastic tag, I almost pass out from relief. Immediately a plan starts to form in my head; I have to get out of here. Somehow, I must distract my dad for even a short while so that I can sneak out. A reasonable solution would be also to wait until nightfall and for him to fall asleep, but I’d be lying if I said that the idea of travelling through an unknown area in the middle of the night would not bother me…

Shaking myself out of my thoughts for now and deciding to improvise, I snatch the phone and shove it in my pocket, turning it this way and that to make sure it’s not visible through the fabric. I roll my shoulders back, take a deep breath, and go to face my poor excuse of a father again.

Somehow it doesn’t really come as a surprise to see him sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of an unidentified beverage and a newspaper in his hand, as if he never left that chair since the morning. No – as if the last two years never happened, and he was still drinking his morning coffee as usual and browsing through the news before setting out to work. The painful pang of nostalgia and loss that shoots through my chest makes me grit my teeth. Hearing the living room door open makes him look up.

Seeing his face – his _dead, tired_ _eyes_ – makes my step falter. The devilish desire from earlier to make him suffer, to at least make him listen to the things that happened to me in excessive detail is somewhat dimmed. For a brief moment I let myself entertain the thought that he really didn’t want to hurt us; that maybe he suffered just as much by leaving us behind. The idea is dismissed quickly – whether it’s true or not, the fact is that he acted ridiculously irrationally and irresponsibly. _He took Levi from me_. I can’t forgive him that.

We’re silent for a while, staring each other down, but enough is enough, so I finally take a seat across from him but still not actually knowing what to say to put my plan in action. He’s an intelligent man, so being careful and unsuspecting is key. In the end, it’s him who breaks the silence first with a blank voice. ‘So are you ready now to have a normal conversation?’

I snap at him, not managing to stop myself. ‘Normal?! Oh, as in where you tell me how much you fucked me over and I nod happily and smile?!’

‘Come on. Come on, just- let’s just not start again, alright?’

‘Start again? Start again?! You think you can just-!’ The rattling of the table as I slam my hand onto it shakes me up and brings me back to my senses – to my heavily underdeveloped plan. _Play along. Take a deep breath. You need to get out of here without him knowing, and as soon as possible_. ‘Fine- you know what, fine. I don’t have the energy for this, I just want this goddamn day to end.’

Grisha fixes the glasses on his nose. ‘Yeah, I agree. We can finally agree on something, huh?’ With a humourless huff he puts down his mug. ‘I’ll make some food? You haven’t eaten all day, come on. Then you can have a shower or whatever, and do you wanna just… sleep on it all then? Maybe we can discuss things tomorrow, see them in a new light.’ He trails off, sounding completely unconvinced and reluctant; it’s almost funny how he clearly wants to avoid a proper serious conversation as well.

‘That’s fair I guess. Alright.’

Now that the anger has cooled and dissipated, it leaves awkwardness behind that’s so thick it’s almost tangible. We sit in silence for another while, avoiding each other’s eyes, until he gets up and starts heating up dinner. I watch his back as he stands by the stove, trying to clear my head. The pleasant, homely smell of tomato soup that soon fills the kitchen definitely helps to soothe my nerves. Even though it’s bittersweet – reminding me of everything that I’ve lost with mom’s death – it still puts me at ease. We eat in silence, too. The soup obviously doesn’t taste as well as mom’s – my favourite, that she always made especially for me – but it’s still definitely edible and it brings back memories. I try not to focus on that too much though, deciding it would be best if I didn’t start crying into my bowl. To my dismay, the meal goes by too quickly and I can feel an uncomfortable conversation approaching again.

Once more, it’s not me who has to make a start. ‘Want some more?’

‘Uh, no, I’m good. Uh, thanks.’

It feels weird having someone else clean up after dinner for me; I’d give anything to be cleaning up the worst of messes – which never really happened – in Levi’s apartment right now.

‘Do you wanna go shower first while I clean up? Have a look in my wardrobe in my bedroom for some clothes that might fit you.’

He speaks without turning to face me, which ends up being a good thing – he doesn’t see the spark in my eye at his words; perhaps he’ll go shower right after me, giving me the most perfect opportunity to make my escape. ‘Alright.’ I murmur in affirmation, feigning indifference. I make sure to keep the bounce out of my step when I head to his room and grab the first T-shirt and sweatpants that fall into my hands. He’s still washing up when I lock the door behind me in the bathroom.

Having a shower is the last thing on my mind – I don’t want to dash outside into the chilly weather with my hair and skin still damp and catch a cold – but I let the water run anyway and hastily change into the new clothes for the sake of pretending. Sitting on the closed toilet lid and restlessly jiggling my leg, I try to figure out how long I should sit here to make the lie believable. In the end, I decide to splash my hair with water just a bit to be more convincing, my health be damned. With great reluctance, I finally remove the collar and put it in between my previous folded clothes.

I hate it. My throat feels strangely cold and heavy – how ironic. But I know it’s necessary; it’s not like I could be seen walking outside with a collar on and without a master. Especially since… I don’t have a master anymore, nor do I really _need_ one – I’m a free man. And this thought shouldn’t scare and _disgust_ me as much as it does, should it? If only my freedom didn’t have to cost me the one single most important person to me.

Once the steam makes the loose clothes cling to me uncomfortably I decide that enough is enough. Shoving my face into the hot air behind the shower curtain to give a credible rosiness to my cheeks I switch off the water and wait a few minutes before finally walking out back to the kitchen. ‘Right, uh. I’m done.’

‘Great. You left some hot water?’ He asks lightly, getting up from the chair, a change of clothes already under his arm.

‘Yeah, sure.’ I avoid his gaze yet again, knowing that he’d be able to see the guilt in my eyes which I know is there, even though it doesn’t really make sense for me to feel that way after everything he has done.

‘Thanks. Uh, feel free to raid the fridge, or the TV, or whatnot.’ He gestures vaguely before disappearing into the bathroom.

 _Guilt_. I can’t deny it; I can’t help but feel bad. The truth is that Grisha isn’t an evil person; even if he’s helping his patients just for status and respectable image, does that make him evil? Not really. Did he _want_ me to be enslaved and abused? I’m quite certain that it’s not the case. Maybe he’s just simply out of touch with reality; maybe his intentions are potentially good, but he has no idea how much his disastrous and reckless actions have on those around him.

Not that it matters. I can’t let myself be distracted, so once I hear the water running again I strip once more. With trembling hands, hammering heart, and beads of sweat on my forehead I put the suit back on and shove the collar in my pocket. What starts of as a quietly thrumming uneasiness grows into a full-fledged panic with each second. Hating myself, I find Grisha’s coat on the coat hanger by the door and check it in search of some money – it’s disgusting, but I know I must put morals aside for a moment; getting _anywhere_ on my own will be impossible without at least a little bit of cash. I manage to fish out a few coins, hoping it will be enough for the bus. Just as I’m about to dash to the door, I get a last-minute idea. By the time I realise that losing around a full minute might be too risky, I’m already quietly searching through the kitchen drawers until I find a notepad and a pen.

_‘Don’t look for me. See you in court.’_

I all but throw the notepad onto the table, dashing to and unlocking the door with the panic of a man chased by a chainsaw-wielding psychopath. And just like that, now I’m the one to leave my father behind. Disappearing without a word, only with a short note. Just like he has done.

Not bothering with – or not _trusting_ – the lift, I almost fall down the stairs a couple of times with how fast I’m running; the old rusty railing is the only thing that keeps me on my feet until I’m on ground level. Even then, I don’t stop running. Granted, I have no idea whatsoever where I’m running _to,_ but that doesn’t matter at the moment. The most important thing is to get away as far as possible in those precious few minutes – if I’m lucky, he might still be in the shower. My muscles are starting to protest, begging me to stop, but I don’t slow down; not even when the goddamn apartment complex disappears from my sight. Gasping for breath, I keep running along the pavement by the road – surely there must be a bus stop somewhere nearby? Doesn’t matter. I’ll find it. I’ll find my way back, even if it takes me the whole night.

After God-knows how long, I finally have to stop to catch my breath – my throat is raw and my heart is hammering to the point where it actually hurts, but it was worth it; I must have gotten away far enough. By now, Grisha certainly found the note, and I can only hope that if he decides to go against my words and to look for me, then it will take him another few precious minutes to get ready. His car is definitely an advantage; that’s why my anxiety doesn’t lessen and the adrenaline rushes me forward to find some kind of public transport. Picking up my pace again until I break into a lighter run, I take a right turn into what seems like a bigger road with a bigger traffic and more lights. I almost cry out in joy and relief when I finally spot something that resembles a bus stop. Fate must be on my side for once.

There isn’t anyone there, which is another good point; I’d surely attract some attention, or at least strange stares. The problem lies somewhere else; I have no idea how to decipher the timetable; I may know the areas close to Trost and the city itself well, but there was no need for me to learn about areas _that_ far away. There is only one really suitable course of action; call Hanji.

But staring at her name on the phone of the screen with my finger hovering over the call button, I’m suddenly apprehensive. Will she even want to help me? It’s entirely possible that she already knows, with the way the police made a scene at the university; she works there too, after all. Is she angry? Does she hate me? Does she blame me? It would only be logical.

I force those anxieties aside; now is not the time to be chickening out. Dialling the number, I press the phone to my ear and prepare for the worst.

She picks up after the first ring. ‘Oh my _God_ , Eren! Finally! I’ve been trying to call you all day? What is going on, where are you?!’

Well. That is not what I expected, for sure. But… she was worried about me? Does she even know what kind of disaster I’ve caused? ‘Ah, H-Hanji… Something- God, something terrible has happened-’

‘I know, Eren, I know.’ Oh. She does. ‘We’ll work it out. But where have you been? Were- Oh. You’re with your father, correct? Ah, I’m happy for you, kid. I’m happy that you found your family, I’m sure you’re overjoyed, too.’

Her voice is strange; not really conveying the joy she spoke of, and somewhat uncertain, as if she didn’t believe her own words or knew whether they’re appropriate or not. ‘No, wait- Hanji, listen. I… I need your help. Please.’

‘With what? What’s wrong?’ I wonder what I’ve done in the past life to deserve yet another person who’d be so worried about me.

‘I’m- I’m trying to get back to Trost, I have keys to Levi’s apartment… but I really don’t know where I am. I know I’m far, but I don’t know where, I don’t recognise this place at all.’ I whine pitifully into the device.

‘Oh. You’re… not staying with your dad?’

‘No.’ I feel like I should explain more, give her a more elaborate answer, but there’s some mental block stopping my words; I don’t want to talk about my father.

Hanji doesn’t reply for a while, seemingly taking a relatively long time to process a single-worded answer. ‘Okay. Well, if you want, I could pick you up if you tell-’

‘No, no! I mean- I just need to go _now_ , I cannot wait.’

‘Alright… Yeah, okay then. Tell me where you are, are there any street signs nearby? Anything noticeable, any landmark?’

‘I’m at a bus stop now.’

‘That’s perfect! There should be a number of the bus stop somewhere – if you tell me that then I can find the best route back home for you.’

‘Uhm, one sec…’ I read through the little board with the timetable until I find something that might resemble the stop code. ‘Uh, _4808 EL_ , could that be it?’

‘Whoa, you’re really far out. That’s not even the central bus line anymore, I don’t think…’ Well, that certainly does not put me at ease, but I will my pessimism away – such a small inconvenience won’t stop me. Hanji will help me work it out. ‘Right, okay, give me two minutes, I’ll call you back.’

She hangs up before I even have time to answer, leaving me to fret and stew in my worries alone, shifting my weight from foot to foot. No car passes without it catching my anxious attention, as the chance of Grisha chasing me down increases with each second. I get myself worked up to the point that when the phone buzzes in my hand I nearly jump out of my skin.

Again, Hanji doesn’t wait for me to speak before she dumps the information on me. ‘Okay, you need to take the bus 109A. Tell the driver that you want to go to the end of the line. When you get out, you’ll be able to see a big glassy building with a blue sign on it saying ‘Eldia Train Station’; you really can’t miss it, it’s massive. There’ll be ticket machines, you’ll have to select one to go to Trost city centre. Then follow the signs to the right platform to get the right train – it’ll all be on your ticket. Once you’ll be in the city you’ll be able to find your way back, right? The 17A will get you back home.’ _Home_. ‘Will you remember all that? I’m certain you’ll manage, but in case you’ll run into trouble, just call me. Otherwise, just text me when you get back, so that I’ll know everything is okay, yeah?’

‘Yeah… God, thank you, Hanji. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.’

‘Are you kidding? Don’t mention it, that’s what family does. We help each other out, yeah?’

A surge of emotions makes me flinch and grip the phone tight. _Home. Family._ How can it be that within a couple of months, this is what these people became to me? How odd is it that I’m running back to them, away from my own biological father? ‘Y-yeah. But-! Hanji, um. I just, uh… I want to ask you one more thing…’ Her silence is an encouragement for me to continue. ‘Do you think… Do you think Levi will be angry if he finds out that I just waltzed back into his apartment like that?’

She’s surprisingly silent for a while. ‘Eren, what are you even talking about. I mean, you know it’s ridiculous, yeah? Why in the world would he be angry?! Just because you don’t pay the rent doesn’t mean it’s not your home as well. Honestly, enough with the silly talk, off you go now. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, there’s lots of work to be done. Just don’t forget to text me when you get home!’

‘Y-yeah, okay. Thanks again.’

‘Waaahh, stop thanking me, silly goose! Go now, go, go, go, bye!’ I laugh heartily as she makes actual kissing noises into the phone before hanging up. She must be some sort of wizard; it’s incredible, really, how much she managed to cheer me up, with so little effort.

It’s another fifteen minutes or so of standing in the chilly evening air before the correct bus arrives. Stepping in, I immediately take in my surroundings for any signs of threat – to my pleasant surprise, there only seem to be a few passengers, with most of the seats being empty. However, the large man of a bus driver is nothing short of intimidating.

‘U-um…’ I clear my throat, hoping to make my voice a bit clearer and louder for him to hear as I squeeze the coins in my hand. ‘I’d like to go to the last stop, please.’ He doesn’t say anything; he just presses some buttons on the ticket machine, and I pay the amount that it displays. Still without a word, he hands me my ticket and I thank him quietly before making my way to the back of the bus.

Once I sit down and the shaky vehicle roars back into motion, an almost dizzying wave of relief washes through me. I did it. The chances of Grisha finding me _now_ are fantastically slim. I let myself lean against the window, breathing out a sigh of relief and watching the trees, buildings and other cars go by, illuminated by the blurry orange lights of the street lamps that we pass. For a while, I feel utter peace. But naturally, in the absence of one problem, the other one resurfaces. The _key_ one. They took Levi away from me. How will I even get him back? Of course, I’m certain Hanji will not leave it just to me – she’s been Levi’s best friend since years, after all, so he’s just as important to her as he’s to me. _We’ll work it out. Take one thing at a time_. Get back home first.

 _Home_.

 

Immersed in my thoughts I lose track of time, and before I know it we’ve reached the last stop. Following Hanji’s instruction, I search for the large train station building which, indeed, turns out to be too massive and flashy to miss. It’s, without a doubt, anxiety-inducing to be on my own like this for the first time, but I can do it. I know I can. Hanji believes in me, and Levi would probably believe in me, too. There’s time; I’ve got all night, after all. _One step at a time_. That philosophy seems to work, because soon I find myself sitting in the train, on my way to Trost. Despite my previous nap I can feel exhaustion creeping in – probably a burn-out from the stress – but the adrenaline keeps me awake. I feel more at ease once I step out of the train and I’m greeted with familiar streets, buildings, and buses; I know this city like the back of my hand after all the map-studying and trips with Levi. I even recognise the driver when I take the final bus. Everything feels familiar. Feels like home.

It is almost night when the long, lonely journey reaches its end. With a shaky hand and overcome with some strong but unidentified emotion – or a whole range of them – I unlock the door and step into Levi’s apartment. Quietly, as if not wanting to wake up some sleeping demons, I walk to the kitchen – the room where we spent so much time together. I force myself not to cry. I’m finally home – but it doesn’t feel like it. It’s quiet, cold, lonely; almost eerie. It’s empty. The place misses its heart; the man who gave me my freedom and lost his own in the process.

But only temporarily, I’ll see to that. I’m home, and I’ll do everything in my power and more to make sure Levi will soon be, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this chapter is shorter than usual ;_; And not very eventful... But I really wanted to update since it's been just over a month, and now that the semester started I'll be short on time again so new chapters might be just a bit shorter, like this one, so that it doesn't take me 3 months to update ^^'  
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> (I'm 'fishnatu' on tumblr, if anyone wants to message me or something ^^')
> 
> EDIT 07/02: I am really REALLY sorry; I know that it's been a month since the last update. I'm not going to lie, and I'm not going to say that I'll update in a week, because I won't. I'm writing a one-shot currently (not SNK) and it's taking a bit of my time, but I have an absolute, all-consuming need to write it for angst reasons, and I will not rest until it's finished. PhD applications take time too. College is increasingly time-consuming, and recently I've also been feeling a bit burnt-out in terms of writing Guide Dog. That isn't to say that I won't finish it, because I 100% will; it might just take more time than I expected. Sorry about that, but this fanfic is my baby, and the last thing I want to do is to rush it just for the sake of it. I hope you guys will understand.


	21. The Anastasia Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music:  
> [ Ólafur Arnalds - This Place Was A Shelter ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eo1xMC7VbU)  
> [ Hans Zimmer - Time ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxabLA7UQ9k)

The bed I’m lying in feels so alien; cold and sterile and soulless. No wonder, really – I haven’t slept in it for months. It seems forever ago since I took up the empty side beneath Levi’s duvet, curled up beside him for warmth and comfort. Perhaps sleep would have come easier if I did the same last night; slept in his bed and fooled myself that he’s there through the sheer familiarity of the way the sheets felt on my skin, and maybe some of his lingering smell on his pillow; maybe these would have kept the nightmares at bay. But I couldn’t. The mere thought of it seemed short of sacrilege. It was silly, I knew. And maybe I knew that sleeping in _our_ bed _alone_ would just make me weep until I had no strength left. The dance of little dust specks in the morning light’s disgustingly bright beam is horribly peaceful, as they sway to the cheerful tune of the birds’ song outside. I curl further underneath the covers, squeezing my eyes shut; blocking out the beauty of the world. How dare it; how dare the world wake up just as it did yesterday; how dare life go on so calmly and brightly after such an injustice has taken place? How dare it all not fall apart when my angel has been caged, his wings clipped?

I don’t shower that morning – the cabin looks hauntingly large for just me alone. Being unable to look at my disgusting, guilty face, I don’t shave. Forcing myself to comb my hair and dress into loose sweatpants and T-shirt counts as an achievement, which I only did for the sake of looking at least somewhat decent in front of Hanji – whenever it is that she’ll arrive. Keeping the tears at bay I tend to breakfast in the overly and eerily quiet kitchen; it’s frigid no matter how high I turn up the heat. Before I realise it, I’ve made enough scrambled egg for two people. Out of habit.

I don’t take a single bite.

The thought of eating alone in Levi’s kitchen makes me sick to the stomach. By the same reasoning I shouldn’t be drinking tea either, but logic tells me to fill my stomach with _something_ so that it won’t complain. With a mug of the most plain black tea in my hands I sit at the other end of the table, hunched over, glancing at both of our usual seats with a chilled spine. Empty. It’s so unbearably crushing. Everything feels sick and twisted and hollow. It all feels wrong; Levi would probably describe it – in his casual science talk – as if all the particles are in the wrong energy states; just wrong. Or something like that.

With a violent jerk I’m shaken out of the haze I didn’t even realise I’ve fallen into. Doorbell. The tea – now no longer steamy and with a brown ring above the liquid surface on the mug as it evaporated – sloshes dangerously and spills. So much for ‘breakfast’. Quickly mopping it up with a paper towel and dumping the half-empty mug in the sink, I run over to the door to let Hanji in, without even checking if it’s her.

It _is_ her. But she’s not alone.

A ridiculously tall and buff blond man in a white shirt and slacks stands beside her in the doorway. His thick eyebrows hang low over his serious eyes and I feel my mouth dry out in fear.

‘Morning, Eren!’ Hanji gives me a little wave, but immediately catches up on my undoubtedly wide worried eyes. ‘Oh, this is Erwin. Don’t worry; he looks really intimidating, that’s true, but he’s a good guy, he’s on our side.’ The man lifts an eyebrow at the bespectacled engineer with something borderline on confusion and light amusement but doesn’t say anything. ‘Can we come in?’

‘O-oh, y… yes, of course?’ My voice is small as I let them in, quite literally hiding behind the door, feeling awkward about my bad manners and about the question directed at me as if it is _my_ apartment. I lock the door and turn to the pair, heart already hammering at the mere thought of what I should even say, so something ridiculous and thoughtless blurts out of my mouth. ‘W-would you like some tea, or…?’ I trail off, feeling stupid again. _As if it is my apartment_. What is Hanji even thinking of all of this? Some stray _dog_ that weaved himself into her best friend’s life, got him arrested, and is now strutting about his flat like he owns the place. Will she hate me? Is she disgusted? But she helped me yesterday, and-

‘Sure, I’d love some. I’ll set the water boiling, you get the mugs.’ Not for the first time, I decide that this woman is an angel as she winks at me and makes her way to the kitchen. ‘Erwin, you want some too?’

‘Ah, yeah, why not.’ The man says casually before turning to me with a smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes, while I’m standing there, quaking in my socks at the low, rumbling baritone of the man’s voice. As if he didn’t seem threatening and intimidating enough already. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Eren. May I call you Eren?’

He extends one massive, meaty hand towards me. I shake it with just a touch of uncertainty; slightly worried whether my fingers will remain intact once I withdraw them. At the same time, I inwardly cringe at his question; what, does he intend to call me Mr _J_ _äger_ , like that policewoman wanted to? Call me by the name of the traitor of a father that I have? ‘It’s nice to meet you, too, Mr Erwin.’ Despite my instincts yelling at me to run and hide from this man’s disturbingly overbearing presence, I’m determined to not let my voice waver, even if the honorific slips up. ‘Yes, please call me Eren.’

‘Ah.’ He nods. ‘Please just call me Erwin, too.’ The firm grip is finally loosened and I’m silently grateful that my hand doesn’t stay in his after detaching from my arm. ‘I’m a lawyer and an old friend of Levi’s; I will be taking on his case.’

I’m not really sure what I expected; in hindsight, his whole appearance and demeanour, and the fact that Hanji brought him here are obvious indications of such, but I still can’t help my eyes widening in surprise.

‘Hanji told me a little about the whole situation already, to save time.’ He continues to speak in that low voice as we make our way to the kitchen, too, where I grab three mugs and set to prepare the tea. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

‘No, no. Of course not.’ What else am I supposed to say? It’s not really that I mind, but anxiety still prickles at the back of my neck – how much did Hanji tell him? But then again, I don’t have much to hide, do I? Especially if he’s also Levi’s friend.

The room is quiet as the two take their seats at the table – Erwin sitting down in Levi’s usual spot, which makes me bristle, but it would be unreasonable to let that show, of course. As I put down the sugar and teaspoons and finally the steaming mugs on the table, I find that I subconsciously take my sweet, sweet time doing so. _Stalling_. But in the end, there’s nothing left to place, nothing left to do, except to sit in my usual spot and face reality in the form of that large man, and whatever he has to say. When he decides to stall, too, by sweetening and mixing and tasting his tea silently and ever-so-slowly, I wonder whether I’m grateful or whether I hate him for it.

Still, when he speaks, I nearly jump out of my skin. ‘Alright. Let’s get started, we have a lot to discuss.’ The ‘yes, sir’ almost falls off the tip of my tongue, but I manage to catch myself and only nod instead. ‘First things first, Eren, let me give you an overview of the situation; your father is pressing charges against Levi for keeping you as his slave illegally, since you’re not an orphan, as everyone believed. I expect there will be an investigation into the orphanage that sold you to the brothel, but we’re not concerning ourselves with that now. You may wonder, why is Levi being held responsible at all – we’ll get to that in a minute, but one of the reasons is bad luck; it seems as if he might not have been issued with a full set of required documents when he bought you – but ah, I’m getting side-tracked here.’ He waves a hand dismissively, cutting his train of thought short, it seems, as he takes a sip of his tea. ‘Before we get anywhere, I want to clarify; my goal is to defend Levi, to prevent him from getting a prison sentence because it is, unfortunately, very likely. But it all means that if you decide to work with us, you will be going against your father. I want you to be certain whether you’re sure you want to do that.’

The table’s surface underneath my fingertips still seems to be vibrating with that deep voice, even after the man has stopped speaking. The room falls silent, and I try to wrap my head around what he just said. _Decide_ to work with them? Why wouldn’t I? Why is that even up for debate in the first place? My mind spins with the amount of information dumped on me already, but more so with the fact that so much has happened in a _single day_ , while I just sulked and slept and idly waited until I could escape from my father’s clutches. My own weakness and uselessness disgusts me. But wallowing in self-pity will do no good.

‘Of course I want to work with you.’ I sit up straight as I speak, for once confident. ‘I’ll do anything to help Levi. Grisha Jäger is a traitor who abandoned me; not a father.’

The man fixes me with a levelled but intense gaze for a moment before he speaks. ‘Very well. Let’s not waste any time then.’ To say that I’m wary of this man would be an understatement; if I had met him anywhere else, I’d probably cross the street well ahead to avoid him, and if I couldn’t, my head would surely lower instinctively as I’d pass him. He’s the very definition of _intimidating_ , but my first impressions of him also tell me that he could be someone who’s genuinely competent, reliable, and _deadly_ effective – someone who will not stop at anything to get what he wants. And since he’s Levi’s and Hanji’s friend, I suppose I could consider starting to trust him. ‘And while we’re on the topic of your… father’s betrayal, would you mind telling me more about what happened? It could potentially help us a lot.’

Talking about it for the second time in two days makes it a bit easier than the first time. I don’t really look at either of them as I, once more, share my tale which just seems pitiful by now. Sparing some minor details, I tell them about my sickly mother, my adopted sister, and my dad who was more dedicated to his work than his family; a foolish, selfish, cruel pseudo-altruist and a status-obsessed and fame-chasing surgeon. I tell them how he abandoned us with no explanation soon after our mother’s death, about how we were alone until the social services took a hold of us. I tell them about the orphanage, about how I ended up in the brothel, and about my father’s ridiculous explanations and reasoning that I’ve learned about just yesterday. But oddly enough, there’s a certain kind of detachment and indifference in me, instead of the blazing fury that almost blinded me yesterday – and I find it is a welcome change. Perhaps it’s the presence of these two that is so calming and comforting, and the knowledge that I don’t have to face it all alone.

They both nod along silently to my tale, looking positively engrossed. It’s beyond awkward and strange to see Hanji so quiet and serious.

‘Hmm. I see. Then, before I explain my planned strategy to you – tell me, Eren. Who do you think is our opponent, our enemy, in this fight?’

The odd question takes me aback so that I’m stunned into silence as I try to blink away the surprise. The confidence I had for these few brief moments disappears quickly like the steam from my mug. I feel sudden paranoia that I’ll say something incredibly stupid.

‘Um… my father?’ Risking a quick glance at the man wasn’t worth it; his serious, unwavering gaze is enough to make my eyes drop back to my tea and to tell me he’s expecting a different answer. Well, at least I get a second chance, I suppose. ‘T-the prosecutor?’

Erwin is clearly unimpressed, although his expression doesn’t change; he only clasps his hands on the table and sighs lightly. ‘Potentially correct, but wrong.’ My shoulders drop in disappointment. This isn’t a good start for sure. ‘Our enemy is the system.’

‘The… system?’ I frown in confusion.

‘Yes. Have you ever wondered how it is possible that slavery is legal?’

My hand clenches around the mug in a sudden flash of anger. ‘Because people are evil and disgusting?’

For the first time, I see the corner of the man’s mouth lift up in a brief smirk. ‘Potentially correct, but _still_ wrong. Think about it; a _theoretically_ highly-developed, enlightened, intelligent civilisation, so very moral that once rejected slavery, now openly accepts it as something legal? Hm, any thoughts?’

I’m getting somewhat frustrated; I don’t know what this man is getting at, and surely just rephrasing a question isn’t going to make me get the right answer. Or, well, the answer that _he_ wants, anyway.

‘Oh, give it up, Erwin. Stop being so cryptic and dramatic and just get on with it; say what you want to say.’ Hanji saves me again, as she often does.

The lawyer seems to lighten up a bit, this time actually giving a small amused chuckle. ‘Very well. Let’s not waste time.’ Still, he doesn’t rush with taking a long, heavy breath, and another sip of his tea. ‘ _Fear, justification, control_. The three principles that allowed slavery to be reintroduced into existence. See, this civilisation was destined to collapse since many decades, and legalisation of _differentiated citizenship_ , as they call it, is the epitome of that. There are as many opinions as there are people, but some things can’t be argued with and are – or some of them at least _were_ , until recently – just facts of life; overpopulation and the world’s inefficiency of dealing with it; limited natural resources, work places, and space; culture clashes and different moral codes; mass social engineering and manipulation through media; increasing government involvement into everyone’s everyday lives and their promised protection from crime, terrorism, natural disasters, anything – the list goes on, really.’

Another sigh, another sip of tea. Confusion builds with his every word.

‘So how does that tie in with those three principles? Well, fear and justification go hand-in-hand, in a way. The sad fact is that with enough skill and resources and strategy, you can make people believe almost anything. See, in the past, slave trade was about profit, cheap workforce. But do you know what’s more convincing than possibility of gain? The possibility of _loss_. When people were told that they’d have to pay larger taxes for the homeless and the poor, when their workplaces were supposedly ‘stolen’ by those less qualified as an attempt to reduce the gap between classes, when rent and property tax and energy bills increased because of the resources becoming more scarce – a lot of these being baseless accusations and empty threats, of course – that’s when people became more susceptible and open to the idea of a different solution. And so it began; rights to vote, to work in a chosen job, to travel, and others, slowly, little-by-little so as to not shock people, became selective based on income, education, and overall ‘usefulness’ to society. Right to vote was of course tackled early on, so that those negatively affected would not interfere with further changes. This continued until finally, enslavement of those deemed ‘useless’ became legal. But really, at that stage, it was only a formality.’

My mouth is dry. Erwin drinks the tea again.

‘That’s the first two factors; induced _fear_ of the chaos that was oh-so-certain to descend if the pseudo overpopulation problem wouldn’t be solved, serving as _justification_ for why slavery was the only choice, apparently. Now, you might ask – surely, not everyone was as brainless and deranged as to believe and agree to and allow for all this? Surely there was some resemblance of morality left? And you’d be right. So that’s when the miraculous government came in with its _divine_ intervention once more; slavery was meant to be tightly regulated through various laws, ensuring humane treatment of the ‘lowest class citizens’, preventing cruelty and exploitation – though you know better than anyone else that these laws were bound to be broken and mean nothing. And it’s not a tightly-kept secret either; it’s a loosely accepted – though publicly frowned-upon – fact that a lot of people turn a blind eye to, or simply don’t car enough, though officially the illusion has to be maintained. That’s why every now and again you see trials and court cases with severe sentences for those who are found to break those pitiful _laws_ – Levi’s case is one of those. And that’s how the third required element – _control_ – is brought about. Society has completely lost its sense of morality – what’s legal surely must be moral. To an observer from a different time – it would be utter madness. To a society well manipulated and engineered for decades – it is the everyday.’

Our mugs stopped steaming.

‘You might ask; was this all planned, or was slavery an opportunity that arose as a by-product of some other political games? It’s a good question, but in reality, we’ll probably never know. In fact, we don’t need to know; what matters is that our case will be one of those examples they give to the whole damn world to show that slavery is indeed under control; Levi will be made into their ritualistic sacrifice, essentially. That’s why we’re beginning from an already failed starting point; we’re _meant_ to lose this case – that’s why we must work extremely hard if we even want to have a hope of succeeding. Of course, Levi’s apathy to this situation won’t help-’

The dark trance I’ve been shocked into by his terrifying words is broken.

‘You’ve spoken to Levi?!’ I stand up abruptly, slamming my hands on the table.

This time it seems that it is Erwin who is taken aback; he glances at Hanji briefly before looking back at me and sighing yet again. ‘Yes, we’ve seen him yesterday at the prison where he’s currently being detained. Please sit back down, if you don’t mind.’

His tone is calm and yet I feel like I’ve just been scolded, so I obey his _request_ hating myself even more. Just how much did they all accomplish – how much _happened_ yesterday? ‘Is he… how is he holding up?’

It’s a stupid question; of _course_ he’s miserable and upset and probably scared. But I just want _some_ kind of information about him, at least – and thankfully, I’m not subjected to Erwin’s judgemental gaze this time. ‘He’s… coping.’ Well, that’s as vague as one can get, but it’s not as if I expected more. ‘They’ve placed him in a single cell; he won’t be bothered by anyone else.’

I close my eyes against the onslaught of painful images as reality starts to really sink in deep – my Levi, my life, my saviour is in jail because of what he’s done for me. ‘Can I see him?’ My voice is quiet as I try to not let my hopes up.

But Erwin seems to genuinely consider the question. ‘Perhaps. But there are still things I need to talk about.’

‘Of course, of course.’ I nod quickly, desperate to appease the man in hopes that he will help me see my beloved.

‘Well, then. Like I said, winning this will be an extremely difficult feat, and I think now you understand why. The fact that your father is a well-known and respected surgeon of high status will be another obstacle. Darius Zackly, the judge who deals with slavery-related cases, is also a difficult man to crack. Still, normally what you need in a case is evidence and logic. Here, logic is not enough. In fact, logic is the last thing they will be impressed by. We need several lines of defence, and because the _system_ is our enemy, it is the system that we have to target. Of course, this case will not change people’s views and beliefs and ways of thinking – slavery won’t suddenly become frowned upon and illegal. The best we can do is to undermine and somewhat shake their opinions and hope that in their moment of uncertainty they’ll be gullible enough to let Levi go.’

I fight the urge to drop my head into my hands and scream. The man keeps ruining me with every sentence – all he’s given me so far are bad news and hopelessness. From what he’s said so far I might as well get used to the thought of losing Levi forever.

‘We have to strike from many angles, at many levels. Despite what I’ve said about logic, we will use it as an introductory argument – Levi couldn’t have known that you weren’t in fact an orphan, since even you weren’t sure of that anymore, or that there were more documents that he was supposed to receive when buying you. But we won’t base our defence on that. From that, we’ll be able to have a natural, logical progression of argument to targeting the system, the _control_ part, are you following? The jury, the people who’ll come to witness the trial – they’ll all be bloodthirsty. They won’t be interested in statistics about increased efficiency of renewable energy, about increased housing options, about better computational models for scientific research, about increase in places of work – in essence, about the redundancy and needlessness of slavery. About the lack of _justification_ – we won’t win anyone over with these arguments.’

My head is about to burst with the effort of sorting and understanding this new information he throws at me, but I don’t dare stop him.

‘So our option is to show them that they can’t control the handling of slaves. Mistreatment happens, cruelty happens, and you know it best. Here’s where you’ll be able to give your testimony of what was done to you, what you’ve witnessed. If you can present some solid physical evidence, that’s all the better. Then, we will start making emotional arguments – we can’t be certain how well _this_ will go, but I believe there’s a chance if we phrase and present it right. If we show them that Levi is a good man, truly cared for you and protected you better than the _system_ could – than _they_ could – then perhaps we can appeal to their remaining humanity; guilt-trip them, to put it plainly.’

The tension seeps out of my shoulders a little bit – this sounds like something I could accomplish, if I prepare my words right.

‘And the last, but not the least – witnesses. You two are of course going to testify, but we need more people. This is what you have to start working on as soon as possible – we only have a week. So what you’re going to do, is you’re going to go out there and you’re going to find people who know Levi and who can testify in his favour. I don’t care if it’s an elderly lady from the shop you go to often, and I don’t care if you need to _encourage_ her with some cash – in that case, you come to me and I help you with the financials.’

‘Erwin-’ Hanji sighs, as if not really surprised; more as if she’s listening to _yet another_ of the man’s wild ideas.

‘We use whatever means necessary.’ He almost barks at her. ‘Our enemy will not have scruples – neither will we.’

I can’t decide if I’m shocked, terrified, disgusted, or impressed – or maybe all this at once. ‘You… really won’t stop at anything to get Levi out, don’t you?’

Something dark, something that looks _pained_ flashes through his eyes for the briefest of moments. I stare right back into his intense gaze with wide eyes before he closes his, rubbing a hand over his face. He seems to internally debate whether or not to say something. The kitchen is silent for a while before he finally speaks again.

‘I… have a debt. I’ve let Levi down in the past. We’ve been friends for years, but when he became blind, I was abroad, busy with working and making a name for myself.’ He looks down at his empty mug. ‘I was always making plans, promising to visit him. Never did. I would send him money; wanted to support him financially instead, in my absence. Only now I realise how insulting that was. I came back a few weeks ago but haven’t had the courage to contact him. And now… I want to help him if I can – at least somewhat make it up to him.’

That’s not something I expected. I find myself seeing this serious lawyer more as a human – he made mistakes, but he seems earnest in his determination to fix them and make amends. ‘We’ll get him out. We’ll shake heaven and earth, but we’ll get him out. I already have one person in mind I could ask to be a witness.’ Armin or his grandfather will surely be willing to help.

‘Yeah, Erwin, you know we all want Levi back here, making poop jokes and telling weird science anecdotes. I’ve already emailed both the university president and the dean of the faculty where he used to teach; surely at least one of them will get back to me and will want to help after Levi saved their students.’

‘Right. Right. That’s good.’ Erwin nods along. Hanji chugs down the rest of her tea. It feels as if this topic of conversation is over.

‘So… is that everything in terms of our strategy?’ I ask a bit timidly.

‘I suppose. Your job now is to find witnesses.’

‘Yes, yes… But, um. You said that we’ll talk later, about, um… if I can see Levi?’

‘Ah.’ Erwin leans back in his chair. _Levi’s_ chair. ‘I suppose that could be arranged. They know me there, so I can call them and let them know in advance. Can you be ready in half an hour?’

‘What?!’ Once more, I stand up so abruptly that the chair scrapes loudly against the floor and hits the cupboards behind me – if they were just slightly further, the chair would probably topple over. ‘Today? What, we can go now?!’

‘In about half an hour, yes.’ Erwin seems unfazed by my outburst, but I see Hanji smirk.

Without waiting for any other explanation, I run out of the kitchen to Levi’s bedroom, then back to mine to grab some clothes, then back to his. Almost tripping over my own feet and hitting the sink, I run into the shower and start scrubbing myself and washing my hair before the water has even warmed up. I’m not thinking; my eyes are wide and unblinking as I go through the motions at a lightning speed; the bad prognosis of the case, the low chances of winning – everything is forgotten in the sudden blinding euphoria of the unexpected possibility to see Levi _today_.  

The shower, the dressing, shaving, and everything else before I find myself back in the kitchen is a blur. I see Hanji washing up the mugs. _We’re ready to go_ – before an idea strikes me.

‘Can I take something for him?!’ I shout – unnecessarily, probably.

Erwin frowns. ‘Hm? What do you mean, what do you want to take?’

I haven’t thought that far ahead. ‘Uh- uh- um- A blanket?! He might be cold there! Or maybe I could bring him some food, or some hot tea in a thermos flask!’

He keeps frowning but doesn’t make a comment about my overly-loud voice. ‘I suppose you can take a blanket, but I wouldn’t be certain about foods – they might not let you.’

I don’t reply as I run back to Levi’s room and grab a light beige blanket – the one that we often curled up under on the couch in front of the TV in the evenings. In the last moment, I spot the navy scarf I gave him for his birthday on the armchair by the window – I grab that too. When I’m back in the kitchen, Hanji is just closing a steaming thermos. She gives me a small smile.

‘I’ve made the cherry one, his favourite, right.’

I don’t let myself cry.

‘Are you ready to go then, Eren?’

I’m the first to run out the door.

 

The car ride is silent and the air is thick with tension. It feels like all of us are on the verge of trying to start a conversation, but soon enough I just cast that thought away, gripping the blanket and scarf tight in the back seat. My nervousness grows with every car we pass on the motorway. What if he’s actually furious with me? What if he won’t talk to me? Does he blame me? He has every right to. He has every right to hate me. But no, I can’t think like this. Surely, he’s upset. But we can talk it through, I can explain; I _will_ explain, that I have no intention of siding with my father, and that I’ll do everything in my power and more to get him out. He knows I love him more than anything or anyone. Surely he knows that. He _has_ to know that.

Being so wrapped up in my dark anxious thoughts I’m oblivious to the outside world until Erwin switches of the engine and we’re in front of a large, equally dark and anxiety-inducing building. ‘We’re here.’ The man says undoing his seatbelt.

My stomach turns sour as I follow suit. Staying close to Hanji’s side as we walk inside, I can only wonder how _Levi_ felt, being dragged here, without even being able to see where he’s being taken.

The inside looks different to what I expected. At the reception, almost everything is white, the floor is tiled, and there are a few grey benches lined up in the centre for visitors, I assume. There are no windows. A tall, intimidating man in a uniform and with a buzzcut stands up behind the front desk when he sees us enter. I curl in on myself in fear, and immediately hate myself for my weakness once I realise that I’ve done it.

‘Erwin.’ The man greets the lawyer.

‘Hey. Here to see Levi Ackerman; I called you earlier.’

The nameless guard turns to search for something on the computer screen on his desk. He frowns, displeased. ‘Right. But he just had a visitation yesterday… From you as well, no less. So you’re gonna make that one quick today. Ten minutes max. And not all of yous, just two.’

‘I’ll stay, then.’ Hanji volunteers, and I want to cringe – I’d rather go with her than Erwin, but it’s not like I’m going to throw a tantrum here.

‘Garry will bring you to his cell, but I gotta search you first.’ I shiver as the man walks around the front desk and approaches us, not wanting him anywhere near me; especially when he looks so pointedly with irritation at the blankets and thermos I’m holding. Suddenly I feel ridiculous. He turns to Erwin. ‘Alright. What is all this stuff.’

‘A blanket. And thermos with tea. Can we bring them in?’

My fear changes to irritation when the man pulls them out of my arms and puts them on the desk. He doesn’t say a word as he pats us down, looking for any prohibited items. Erwin says nothing as he takes the phone from his pocket, while it takes all of my willpower to not squirm and struggle when he quickly runs his hands over my body.

The man barely spares a glance at the tea; doesn’t even open or examine it. ‘This obviously stays.’ Next, he shakes out the scarf and the blanket, studying them both carefully, even smelling them. It is with another frown that he hands them back to me. Just as he does, another uniformed man, but shorter and with dark curly hair walks out of an adjacent room with a sign saying ‘Video Visitation’ above it. ‘Garry. Those two. Levi Ackerman, ten minutes.’ He’s clearly not a chatty type to anyone.

‘Yeah alright.’

Hanji wishes us good luck as we follow the second guard. My legs shake as we enter a long grey corridor, my mind immediately recalling the last time I’ve _visited_ a prison as an entertainment for inmates. And yet, I manage to control my fear to a degree, the memory being less terrifying since I shared it with Levi.

We don’t pass many cells; most of the ones that we do are empty, anyway. There are only two or three guards stationed in the entire long hall, who stroll about lazily, making me think that most likely this isn’t the main place where prisoners are held – maybe this area is just for those awaiting trial.

‘Ackerman.’ I jump up at the guard’s – Garry’s – voice as he hits the bars of one cell with his fist, making them rattle. ‘You’ve got visitors.’ He turns to us. ‘Your ten minutes start now.’ The man then walks away to give us an illusion of privacy – meanwhile I, not for the first time this morning, feel like I’m drowning, choking; like I might pass out from not enough air.

He’s there. I walk up to the cell and stand by the bars, and he’s there. In that tiny, pale cell with nothing more than a toilet, a sink, and a cot in the far corner with a mattress not much thicker than a folded bedsheet.

He’s there.

One full day is the longest I’ve been separated from him since we met, so it feels as if I haven’t seen him in weeks. He slowly sits up on the small bed, undoubtedly startled by the noise. He’s wearing different clothes than yesterday; navy jeans and a black T-shirt – Hanji and Erwin must have brought him a change of clothes. How absolutely ridiculous of me – I should have done that too. But I don’t have time to dwell on this as I see Levi turn his face, revealing dark bags under his eyes and a bruise on his cheek, clearly visible even in the dim light. Fury. I shake with it, I want to break things, I want to strangle anyone and everyone here who could potentially be the cause of this.

But time is running out. ‘Levi? I-It’s me, E-’

‘Eren?’ His eyes – his beautiful, blind eyes that I’ve missed so much – widen at my voice as he stands up and turns towards the bars.

‘Y-’ A lump clogs my throat and tears sting my eyes, but I force them down. He can’t hear the weakness in my voice; I have to be strong for him. ‘Yes, Erwin brought me here.’ I take another breath to calm myself and stretch my arm through the bars towards him. ‘Come- Come closer, Levi. Just few steps forward. Take my hand.’ I can finally breathe again as he takes those few steps forward and reaches out his hands towards mine. Our fingertips touch.

And then he draws back. I drown again.

‘Levi?’ My voice is breathless with terror.

He takes a step back. ‘So, your father came back.’

I’m losing him. He’s falling through my fingers like sand and I don’t know why. ‘H-he- Yeah- He did but- But it doesn’t matter, I won’t-’

I’m stumbling over my words. This isn’t happening. This wasn’t _supposed_ to happen.  

Levi sits back on his cot. His voice is quiet, hollow, somehow matching the ghost of a _fake_ smile on his lips. ‘No, it matters. I’m glad he did. You’re finally free of the collar, you have your dignity back. You can finally have a normal life that you deserve, you know?’

‘It was you who gave me a life and my dignity back. Not him. You know that.’ My voice is tight, my teeth clenched.

‘I’m glad you found your family.’ The corner of his lips quirks up for a moment in a genuine smile. ‘Hah, you know, it’s almost like you’re Anastasia – once thought to be an orphan, going through times of hardship, but then finding your family again and becoming a respected member of society once more… I guess that makes me Dimitri, then? The culprit all along.’

My heart bleeds. I can’t believe the words I’m hearing. ‘But in the end, Anastasia left her family for Dimitri. And he loved her. They loved each other.’ My voice finally breaks, and the tears fall. ‘You know I’d do anything for you. Don’t… don’t _you_ love me? Did all those… all those months mean nothing? Was this all a lie?’

The moment of silence tears me apart. ‘You were… infatuated with me, and grateful, because I didn’t hurt you like they did at the brothel. And you mistook that for love. It’s understandable. It’s an automatic defence mechanism.’

‘Oh no you won’t!’ I bark out through tears, finally snapping. ‘You won’t shove that Stockholm syndrome garbage in my face.’ Deep breaths. Calm down. _Calm down_. ‘Listen, Levi – you won’t get rid of me that easily, you hear?’ I wonder if he can hear my tears falling onto the white tiles. ‘I’m not leaving you behind. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out, mark my words. You’re not staying here, I promise you that. If it won’t work the first time, we’ll appeal, and try again, you hear me? I’ll get anyone I can involved-’

‘One minute left.’

My mouth goes dry and my thoughts become scattered – I realise I’m still holding the things I brought for him. I push them through the bars and put them on the floor. ‘I’m… I’m leaving a blanket, and your scarf by the bars. I… I also brought your favourite tea in a thermos, but they didn’t let me bring it in.’ I add in a quiet voice. ‘I hope you don’t mind I used it up. But it’s fine. There’s still more left for us to drink together once this is over.’

‘Alright, time up.’ The guard walks up and my heart almost hammers out of my chest. When will I see Levi again? Will it be in a week, at the trial?

‘I’ll see you soon, Levi.’

‘Goodbye, Eren.’

A farewell. My face contorts with silent sobs as we’re led away. On the verge of falling apart, I don’t even stop by Hanji who stands up when she sees us approaching, instead running away to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. There doesn’t seem to be anyone there.

My legs feel like cotton wool as I walk up to the sinks. I lean against one of them, hanging my head. Keep breathing. I need to keep breathing. Stay calm. Being upset won’t solve anything – a clear mind is what I need. And yet, with each breath I’m losing control. Like fanning a small flame into a blazing fire until all I can do is grip the sink tight with one hand until my knuckles turn white, and bite the other one in hopes that it will somewhat stifle the agonised scream I let out.

Slowly, finally, the fog clears with the pain, leaving me heaving, exhausted and numb. There’s an awful bite mark on my hand, and I’ve broken skin with one of my canines.

‘Are you done?’

Startled, my head whips up to the mirror in front of me to see Erwin’s reflection as he stands behind me, leaning against one of the closed cubicle doors with crossed arms. He seems unimpressed with my pathetic display – so am I. And I don’t know what to tell him.

‘I assume you’re clever enough to realise he didn’t mean any of those things. He knows that his chances of getting out are slim to none. He said all this to make it easier for you to go on without him.’

Closing my eyes, I let myself consider this for a moment. I realise that this crossed my mind, that this is what I’ve been silently, subconsciously hoping for. Hearing it from Erwin as well convinces me that it’s the truth. As I take another steadying breath, a new fire lights in me – not destructive and blind and panicked this time, but one of determination. Lifting my head up, I look directly into Erwin’s reflection’s eyes.

‘Yeah. I hope he knows he’s a fool, too. Because I won’t stop at anything to get him out. We use whatever means necessary.’

He smirks with approval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally - FINALLY - after the massive hiatus and most of my uni work done, I'm back. I'm so sorry for taking this long. I understand that a lot of people surely lost interest after such a long break, but I really had to. Still, thank you to all of you who are sticking with this story. It's my little baby (lol), and I'm determined to finish it, even if it takes longer than I expected.  
> I know there is a lot of dialogue and political-ish things in this chapter; I hope yous don't mind. Initially, I didn't expect this fic to include political themes like this, but it became quite obvious soon enough into the writing that it will be necessary; I thought it would be a bit unreasonable to suddenly have legal slavery in a modern word, without any explanation. I have to say I've been dreading writing this - I really wanted to, but I was worried about what you guys will think of it. Well, anyway, here it is now! ^^' Also, sorry that it's such a short chapter, only 7k :c
> 
> Also! Here are some works that people made for this fic, thank you all so much, there are just no words for the happiness when someone makes something based on your writing :'3c  
> * Pinkheichou's [photoset](http://pinkheichou.tumblr.com/post/169428115666/i-want-you-to-know-that-that-if-all-of-the) and [art](http://pinkheichou.tumblr.com/post/161286776366/the-only-thing-im-allowed-to-do-is-to-cater-to)  
> *[ Hedgedraws' ](https://www.instagram.com/hedgedraws/) (IG) [ arts ](http://fishnatu.tumblr.com/post/174980988724/hedgedraws-ig-drew-some-awesome-arts-based-on-my) (posted on my tumblr with permission)  
> * Writerforthetylwythteg's [ moodboard ](http://writerforthetylwythteg.tumblr.com/post/174099532840/guide-dog-moodboard-for-fishnatu-i-hope-you)  
> Thank you all so much, I'm flattered! ^^


End file.
